Tumgik
#if this was a modern au it would still be enemies to lovers but they would need couple's counselling
yoonivy · 22 hours
Text
gold rush; part 1.
Tumblr media
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)
In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?
warnings. aegon + viserys + ramsay being besties. oc is a bit cringe but at least she is free :’) !!
word count. 8k+
01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07
---
The days are growing chillier. The leaves on the trees are still a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows; but they are starting to fall on the ground, baring the branches for the upcoming winter season. 
This means that the weekly outdoor picnic at the University’s quad that you and your friends always make time for is probably going to end soon, so Sansa Stark insists for one more before the inevitable happens. 
“Winter is Coming,” Sansa states with a heavy sigh and a shiver after you all helped her lay out the pastel gingham blanket on the ground that you are all sitting on now. 
Meera Reed makes a face at her, snorting in disbelief. “Did you just quote your family’s motto at us? Really Sansa?”
Sansa glares her way while she starts to take the lunch she had prepared out of her favorite wicker picnic basket. She huffs before insisting, “Well it is. Winter is coming .”
“Oh, it already is coming,” Margaery Tyrell smirks, already pouring out the pre-made mimosas into four mugs. “It came plenty last night…”
“Marg!” 
“What?” Margaery pouts at Sansa’s outcry of her name, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying… Stark men have quite a set of heavy b—“
“No, no,” Meera is the one to cut her off now, her palm held up to stop Margaery from finishing. “I need my appetite to eat these delicious katsu sandwiches!”
Meanwhile, Sansa is ruffling up Margaery’s perfect blowout, ordering the brunette to stop saying disgusting things about her brother, Robb, in front of her.
As you watch them, you laugh with your mouth around the rim of your mug, the taste of alcoholic, bubbly orange juice sweet on your tongue. Your friends are all ridiculous, but you love them. And perhaps, you are just as ridiculous as them. “Sansa… Is your Uncle Benjen visiting any time soon?”
“I don’t know…” Sansa eyes you suspiciously. “Why…? ”
“Cause…” There’s already a stupid smirk lifting your lips that Sansa takes a deep inhale to prepare herself. “I wanna test out Marg’s theory about Stark men and their heavy—“
You are tackled onto your back by the fiery redhead; and luckily for the both of you, you had already drunk all the mimosa in your mug before she did so. You are laughing and shrieking as Sansa shakes you by the  shoulders playfully, with Meera hollering in the back and Margaery exclaiming, “Yes! That’s my girl! Daddy Benjen is so fit!”
It must have been a strange sight to see. Four women in their early twenties having a picnic in the middle of autumn, all screaming and all toppled on top of each other on the quad of the Seven Kingdom’s most prestigious post-secondary school, Vale University. 
No one would dare approach that mess — unless they are brave. 
Or stupid. 
When a dark shadow casts over you and your friends, and someone clears their throat noisily, that is when you all pause mid-laughter to glance up at the newcomer. 
Your eyes widen comically when you are faced with gorgeously long platinum silver hair; the tiniest waist made with an expensive belted black cotton trench coat; a striking violet eye; and the most disgruntled expression you’ve ever seen in your life. 
Of course all that was none other than Aemond Targaryen. 
So in conclusion — brave and stupid. 
All four of you quickly straightened up in embarrassment but his eye was solely on you. 
“Can I talk to you?” Aemond asks, head cocking to a tree nearby. 
Dumbfounded, you nod slowly and stand up just as slow. But while you are in the process of doing so, he is already walking away. Shrugging at the confused looks of your friends, you jog after him. 
In all honesty, you have no freaking idea why he is pulling you aside either.
When the two of you make it beside the willow tree, he turns towards you. The sourness in his face doesn’t change, and you wonder why he is even talking to you because he clearly doesn’t want to be. 
In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total .
So why now?
That is when the panic start to rise in your chest, because there is only one reason he would even sought you out —
“Aemond, is your fath—“
“Are you going to the party—“
You both stop abruptly after speaking over the other. 
Now you are thoroughly confused. 
With your head tilting to the side, you repeat the little you heard him say, “The party?”
At the dumb look on your face, the tips of his ears start burning red. Aemond grimaces, then glares to the side as he answers, “Yeah, the Tyrell party tomorrow night. Are you invited?”
Your brows draw even closer together, staring at Aemond like he grew another head. “I mean, yeah… Margaery is one of my best friends…” Aemond then grunts in remembrance at the girl he just saw you with not even 5 seconds ago. He is still not even looking at you, so you pull at your sweater paws from the feeling of discomfort. “I’m not going though.”
Finally, his eye is on you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “I’m not really in a partying mood… Besides, all my friends have people they’re interested in that are going so I’m probably going to be the weird seventh wheel…”
What in the Seven Hells?!
You make a face at your own oversharing. Why did you just confess your loser status to Aemond Targaryen of all people? Why would he even care—
“Then come with me.”
Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh?!?!
When you realize you exclaimed that out loud and not just in your head, you slap a hand over your mouth. 
His scowl makes you explain yourself in a hurry, “Sorry! It’s just we’ve never really hung out before or, like, even had a conversation until this one, so I’m a bit… confused?”
Aemond presses his pink pout together, inhaling sharply. Then he stares at you in a way that pins you to the spot, your breath catching. “You’re right…” he frowns as he trails off. “We’ve known each other for so long and yet we’ve never made an effort to become friends—“
You’ve never made an effort, I’ve at least tried, you wanted to say, but you bite your tongue and let him keep going. 
“So I’d like to take you to the party to change that. Ramsay’s band is playing so it should be a… fun night.”
He says all that in the aloof yet cocksure air of his but you’re convinced that he is not even convinced himself. 
Because why would being in any 10-feet vicinity close to Ramsay Bolton be any fun? Also he said he’d “like” to take you to the party and yet he looks like he is being held at gunpoint to talk to you. 
Someone is definitely putting him up to this. 
To put Aemond out of his misery (and to satisfy the sniper surely aiming at his head) you say, “I’ll, um… think about it then?”
Aemond hums as an answer; sounding not quite satisfied but letting it be. 
And you thought that would be it. Like he’ll be like well, I tried! — shrugs shoulders and flippantly throws his hands up — oh well! but just as you say your soft goodbye and begin to walk away, Aemond calls your name. 
Wait a second — he knows your name???
You balk, once again staring at him wide-eyed. This time he ignores the look, or at least doesn’t react to it outwardly, and says, “You have my number, right?”
I literally didn’t even know you even knew my name, you almost answer, but instead you went with a simple, “No.”
He lets out a discontented hmm… like somehow that was your fault. He then fishes his phone out of his pocket and then hands it to you. On the screen is the new contact section. 
He didn’t even need to say anything, his domineering stare was enough for you to promptly type in your information on his phone. 
When you hand it back, his thumb swiftly moves on the screen. A second later, you felt the familiar vibration of a new text in the back pocket of your jeans. 
“Text me if you’re coming, I’ll pick you up,” is all Aemond says before he is already walking away and up the hill of the quad to the path leading to one of the university’s libraries. 
You watch his retreating back for a minute before finally heading back to your friends. 
“What was that?!” Margaery is the first of your friends to ask, but you can tell they are all piqued with interest and confusion. They know that you and Aemond go way back yet don’t have a semblance of a proper history, and that he has never sought you out like that before. 
So as you stare at the text that Aemond sent you:
I hope you’ll come to the party. It’ll be nice if you do. 
All you can tell your friends is:
“I honestly don’t even know.”
--
As soon as your last class for the day was let out at 6 PM, you book it to the nearest bus stop and luckily make it just as soon as the bus pulls up.
You would think for a busy and populated university campus, the public transportation schedule would be better. But alas, most of the students that attend Vale U are trust fund babies and have the most expensive cars and/or drivers that take them anywhere they want to go. 
Not you though. You pretty much live paycheque to paycheque. Although you are lucky enough to have only one job that could sustain your living expenses. 
That is where you are heading now, your part-time job at one of the homes in the #3 Wealthiest Neighborhoods of all of Westeros according to Baelish Times. 
The gated neighborhood of Eyrie Heights sits on the tallest cliff in the region of the Vale. Of course since it is the home of many famous celebrities and important political figures, the nearest bus stop to the front gates of the community is a 45 minutes walk away — you make that trek back and forth at least four days every week. 
You’re used to it so it’s not so bad, and the security guards at the gates are super friendly and would always drive you to your final destination in their golf cart. Today was no different, and you are dropped off at one of the many mansions in the neighborhood belonging to the governing family of the Vale, the Arryn’s. 
“Thanks Grenn!” You call out after hopping off the cart and waving goodbye to your ride. 
“No problem!” He waves back with a wide grin. “Say hey to Mr. T for me!”
You give him a thumbs up before turning your heels to walk up the stone pathway leading to the ivory mansion fit for a king.
It definitely is one of the most gorgeously built homes you’ve ever seen. It is an older mansion but properly maintained with the prettiest front garden and perfect shrubbery. The white bricked walls are paired with dark navy blue shingle roofing, which looks lovely during the hotter months but gorgeous when everything is blanketed with white snow. What does it for you though is the huge oval arched windows and the balconies on the second and third floors with the pillars — it was what caught your wide eyes when you first saw it eight years ago when your mother held your hand and dragged you up the same pathway you are currently walking on. Although it is an Arryn family mansion, the man living there now is the widower of an Arryn woman and he is the one you are caring for.
After you climb up the three tiers of stoned steps with the dragon statue water fountain in the center, you pick up the packages and letters at the front door that he received the past two days you haven’t checked up on him before unlocking the door with your set of keys and stepping inside.
“Viserys?” You shout out, locking the door behind you. From somewhere still on the ground floor, you hear the one you are calling for respond back, In here!
With the packages and a hefty bag you’ve pulled out from a closet near the front door, you head to where you assume ‘in here’ is. 
You end up at one of the rooms in the back of the mansion. It does not even surprise you that this is where you find your patient/friend in the huge home — it is the room he is often in if he is not in his master bedroom or kitchen. The conservatory is as beautiful as every part of the house, but anyone can tell it’s the most loved. With its high windowed ceiling and the windowed walls, the brilliant sun can be clearly seen setting on purple and pink skies. But you knew that and luxurious furnishing wasn’t the reason why Viserys Targaryen favored that room so much — for every other room has the same luxury feel to it — but it is because this room is where him and his first wife would always spend time together during the first few years of their marriage before they moved back to Viserys’ ancestral home in King’s Landing. 
“This room is also the only one we were allowed to spend time in while I was courting her,” you remember Viserys recalling to you and your mother one time with a hearty chuckle. He then pointed outside, where the pool is. “Her father would grill out there, pretending it’s for lunch or dinner. But he was really just keeping a close eye on me to not do anything unsavory. Aemma was always so embarrassed because she said her father didn’t even like barbecue ribs that much. ”
With a smile at that memory of his memory, looking towards the many picture frames in the room that hold weathered photos of the ethereal looking woman who still held the heart of a man even 25 years after her death. 
You turn to watch that man now, hunched over beside a big and long table in the middle of the room occupied fully by miniature statues and structures to resemble the once glorious city of the now ruined Old Valyria. 
Viserys is so consumed with whittling away at a block of soapstone that he did not even notice that you were already in the room. 
While putting down his packages and letters on a side table near the door, you call his name again. He turns to you with a bit of a jolt, before his lips spread into a soft smile. “Sorry, my dear… I’ve just been so focused because my hands are being very agreeable today.”
You laugh, nodding in understanding while walking to where he is sitting. 
“How was the commute here?” Viserys asks while you pull out what you needed in the heavy bag you put down on the ground. 
You shrug nonchalantly as you wrap the blood pressure band around his arm. “Awful like always, but I’ll live.”
The balding platinum haired man frowns at that. “I really wished you’d let me hire a chauffeur for you.”
You chuckle, writing down his numbers on your phone’s notes app and moving on to test his blood sugar level. “And I told you, I spend way too much on my monthly bus pass for you to do that. Besides, I like taking public transportation—“ Viserys gives you a look. “… Sometimes.”
Once you have all of Viserys’ numbers for the day and nothing concerning pops up, you text everything to his primary nurse who visits him once a week, Samwell Tarly. 
As you get a text back from Sam -– “Thank you, ____! 😀” — Visery slowly sits up and asks, “A little game of Cyvasse for old time sakes?”
You groan and frown deeply in a way that definitely shows your age of twenty-two, but you follow him anyway to the table in one of the corners of the room with the Cyvasse game on top. 
Not even ten minutes later, Viserys sighs heavily as he watches you make another wrong move. Honestly, you’ve tried plenty of times to understand this board game but it is just lost on you. At this point, you are just moving pieces you think are the ugliest so they can be taken off the board quicker.
“When is your family visiting?” Visersy asks while taking out another one of your pawns, only four of your pieces left on the board versus his fifteen. “Your father is the only one that gives me a challenge in this game and I miss that — well, your father and my younger brother.”
You shrug, moving a piece that he just knocks over a second later. Honestly, he can be playing the game just as bad as you and you would be none the wiser. “Probably not anytime soon. Autumn is the busiest season at Ironrath with the ironwood and all.”
Viserys hums, winning the game. Then he looks straight at you. “You know, your mother called yesterday–”
“Ugh…” your head falls dramatically, already knowing what he is probably going to say next.
“She said you haven’t been picking up her calls and barely answering her messages.”
Yup, there it is.
You stand up, walking over to the table where you dropped off the packages and pick it up to bring to him. 
“It’s not that I’ve been avoiding her. I’ve just been so busy – with classes, extracurriculars, this job…” you tell him as you hand him a package decorated with silver star stickers from his daughter Helaena at King’s Landing, a postcard from Dorne from his grandsons’ Jace and Luke who are vacationing there at the moment, and a letter from Otto Hightower — his father-in-law from his second marriage. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to call her tonight.”
“Is this job too much on top of all of your studies?” Viserys asks, full of concern. “Because—“
“No, it’s not this job,” you reassure him. “I’m just shit at time management. Sansa’s helping me out with that though.”
“Well I hope you are at least taking time for yourself. Your youth should be spent having fun and not being stressed about the future.”
Easier said than done, you think but you let him know instead, “My friends and I had a picnic today. That was fun! And—” Hold on, you just remembered something, “ I … actually got invited to a party tomorrow night… by Aemond.”
At the mention of his son, Viserys’ head tilts in confusion. “Aemond…? I didn’t know you two were friends.”
You scoff out a chuckle. “We’re not… That’s what’s weird about it.”
Viserys hums in thought for a while then smiles at you. “I think you should go to the party with him!”
You make a face and he chuckles, encouraging further, “I’m being serious! My son needs a good influence like you in his life… and under that cold exterior, I know my boy is as sweet as can be. Just give him a chance!” 
Sweet is the last word you would use to describe Aemond Targaryen. Maybe agreeable would have been more suitable. But you know how much Viserys loves his family – as distant as they all may be from him – so you just let it go with a sigh.
And like you told his son earlier, you tell him the same with a tight smile, “… I’ll think about it…”
--
Turns out, you didn’t even need to think about it. 
No. No thinking was involved. 
Not when you are basically kidnapped out of your apartment. As soon as you get home from the library, you are being grabbed around the waist hauled up and out of your modest and tiny living space. 
“How dare you ! You are supposed to be on my team! Team Always Stay At Home Like Gremlins!” You seethe furiously at your best friend and roommate, Jon Snow, who has a hold of your feet to stop you from kicking the man who has you on his shoulder. 
“I know ! I’m sorry, but… Margaery told me to…” Jon says with a weary and apologetic smile. “And plus… Sansa’s going to the party.”
“She’s your cousin, you weirdo !” You bite back at him, and from over your shoulder you can see he is just blushing profusely, unperturbed by the accusation you threw at him. Under you, Theon Greyjoy is laughing so hard in that annoying way of his, so you warn him, “Don’t even get me started with you, buddy.”
He shuts his mouth rather quickly after that.
You are hauled into the car waiting at the front of the apartment, and when you settle in as comfortably as you could after getting tossed into the backseat by Theon, you are faced with Robb and Meera peering back at you from the front seats. 
“Where’s Sansa and Marg?” You ask once the car pulls away, sandwiched between Jon and Theon. 
“Oh, you know… taking a million hours to get ready,” Robb says as he turns right on a street that the robotic lady navigating him tells him to turn at — heading to Loras Tyrell’s penthouse. 
You gesture down at your own outfit — a cream oversized Vale U hoodie and loose blue jeans. “And I didn’t get the same courtesy because…?”
You are not even going to mention your unstyled hair and lack of makeup. 
Meera playfully rolls her eyes. “You look great… like always.”
You stick your tongue out at her while grabbing your phone out of your pocket. 
To Aemond — Heeeeey! I’m coming to the party! You don’t need to pick me up, I have a ride and I’m already on my way there! — see you soon 😃 !
Then before you have a chance to put it away, you notice the little message typing bubble pop up and you wait for a few seconds, and then…
Your mouth gapes open in offense. 
The asshole leaves you on read. 
--
“Maybe he got distracted with something,” of course it’s Jon trying to reason and be practical about the whole situation, always trying to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes it just sounds like he is playing devil’s advocate — like this time, since it involves Aemond “The Ice Prince” Targaryen. “Didn’t you say he was typing something before he didn’t respond at all?”
“I think he is just a right royal prick,” Robb states, which makes the girl he has his arms around giggle.
All your friends are stuffed into an elevator now heading up to the party at Margaery’s brother’s place. And instead of being excited for the night since Loras usually throws the best parties, you’re just pissed off, staring at the read receipt you’ve gotten more than 20 minutes ago. 
“Thank you, Robb!” You appreciate that you at least have someone on your side on this. 
“Watch though, as soon as we step inside, he’ll be a blubbering mess and he’ll tell you he couldn’t respond because the ____ ____ actually messaged him back,” Margaery predicts, somewhat jokingly. 
“Now that I can’t ever see happening in a million years!” Theon snickers. “Do you see what she’s wearing?”
Gasping, you slap his arm. “You said I looked fine, you dick!”
“Meera said you looked fine, I didn’t say nor agree with anything!”
With your friends laughing at yours and Theon’s shenanigans and just when you were about to hit him again, the door of the elevator opens to the sound of smooth R&B. 
“Is that…?” You trail off, listening closely when you step out the elevator. Once you recognize the artist singing live for the party guests, you hit Theon’s arm multiple times out of excitement. “GREY WORM?!”
You ignore Theon’s whining and pouting about how you are hurting him (you weren’t, he’s just being dramatic) to squeal with Sansa – who also loves the up and coming vocalist just as much as you do. 
Sansa links her arm around yours and the two of you set off to the huge living area to join the crowd dancing and singing along with Grey Worm. 
Margaery and Robb find the two of you later in the middle of the dancefloor, still dancing and singing your lungs out. They bring with them four little cups, and after toasting with your friends, you knock back your first shot for the night — and definitely not the last.
After Grey Worm plays his last encore song for the night, you boo lightheartedly with the crowd making the handsome Astapori laugh, promising he’ll be back in the Vale soon for a proper concert. When he steps off the “stage” (which was just a 6 inch platform) he kisses the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen and you almost want to boo seriously because how are you supposed to compete with that?!
You pout with Sansa, both your dreams dashed in an instant. As the DJ returns to her booth, the room is shaken with the loud bass of HEATED by Beyoncé – the most popular artist in all six continents of the world – you turn to Margaery to ask, “Why was Grey Worm the opening act and Ramsay’s dark-sided heavy metal band the main one for the night?”
Margaery sighs and rolls her eyes, “Well, Renly just signed Ramsay’s band to his label so my brother wanted to be the ever supportive boyfriend… I told him to switch it around but when he asked Ramsay, the manchild threw a fit…”
“Of course he did,” Sansa says, shaking her head in mild disbelief. 
“Let’s stop talking about the prick and have some fun before he inevitably goes on that stage, yeah?” Robb suggests, and you all agree with him, deciding not to let Ramsay ruin your night. Maybe later, when he does start his set, you can all just head to the outdoor balcony with the pool and mini bar.  
You stay dancing with your friends until the song ends before you part with them to grab yourself another drink. You were also incredibly hot, so once you were out of the crowd, you pull off your hoodie, now only wearing a white tank top – very Olivia Rodrigo chic. You toss the hoodie onto one of the couches, knowing no one here will ever steal Vale U merch (and if someone does, it’s whatever) and then you head to the bar. You take another shot while you order a peach bellini and as you wait for your drink to be made, your eyes scan the room. The party is in full swing now and there has to be more than fifty people in this room alone, so there must be plenty more in other areas of the penthouse. Just as you get your drink, you notice someone from the corner of your eyes standing against the wall by a loveseat pretty close to you. 
The guy who left you on read, Aemond Targaryen. 
You suppose you weren’t pissed off anymore (and perhaps Jon was right that he got distracted by something) so you decide you should at least say hi. With your drink in hand, you walk to him and you have to admit… He is looking pretty good tonight. The black silk button up shirt he has on fits so nicely against his body and it is tucked into an equally as tight leather pants that left no room to the imagination. You might have drooled a little, you’re not even going to lie. 
As you approach him, his eye lands on you, taking in you in a way that makes you feel like he is devouring you whole. His mouth parts slightly while his thumb starts to skim across the rim of the glass cup of whiskey on ice he is holding. Maybe it’s the shots you’ve taken, or maybe Meera was right — maybe you do look good.
You were so distracted by how handsome he looks that you didn’t even notice the company he is with until it was too late. 
“Well, well… Isn’t this a nice surprise, angel eyes?” Is what you hear when you are about to say hello to Aemond. As you grimace at the sound of his voice, Aemond looks between you and the man sitting on the couch he is beside. 
Ramsay takes away the arm he has around the girl who is sitting with him to put both his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together, leaning forward to regard you closer. 
“Finally ready to make nice again, sweetheart?” Ramsay asks you, that infuriating smirk on his lips. 
“You two know each other?!” Aegon Targaryen — Aemond’s older brother by three years — questions like he cannot believe it to be true. You wish it wasn’t true. But sadly, it is. You went on five dates with the scumbag just last year. 
“No,” you tut out at the same time Ramsay replies, “She’s my ex.”
“Ex?!” you scoff out with a laugh. “We went on, like, five dates, my dude.”
Ramsay gasps mockingly, grabbing onto his chest. “Oh sweetheart, how you wound my fragile heart. I thought what we had was special!”
You roll your eyes, but decide not to give him the satisfaction of another reply from you. So you turn to Aemond instead, throwing him a very expectant smile but you are met with a carefully neutral expression. You falter slightly under his stare, licking your lips and then pressing it together before you tell him, “Hey, uh, sorry I didn’t come here with you. I got pretty much held hostage by my friends as soon as I got home from school.”
Aemond nods slowly with a throaty hum. “It’s fine.”
Feeling several eyes on you, you mirror the bob of his head as you wait for him to say something — anything — else. 
“Are you… having fun?” You ask, breaking first.
Eye still on you, Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. But after a couple of seconds, he turns his head away, looking to the side as he takes a sip of his drink, then keeps his stare at the dancing crowd as if you weren’t even standing in front of him.
You let out a humorless chuckle, trying not to feel rejected. 
“Okay, then… Great talk,” you murmur, then you promptly walk away before you humiliate yourself any further. 
What is his deal ?
First he invites you to this stupid party, then he leaves you on read, and now he makes you a fool in front of all his friends…
Honestly… It’s on you for expecting anything different.
--
Once you turn to leave, Aemond is quick to watch you walk away with an indecipherable look on his face. Never once taking his eye off you until you eventually blend into the crowd. 
“Was that her?” Vis asks — a distant cousin of Aemond’s, with the same name as his dad (a Targaryen thing; after the 10th generation they just became less and less creative and started reusing the same 10 names). “Is that the girl?” 
“Yesss , it issss!” Aegon answers in a sing-song, slurring his words from the many shots and bottles of beer he has downed already. 
“The girl?” Ramsay questions, frowning in confusion. Meanwhile, Vis grimaces in disgust, muttering something rude about your outfit.
“The girl Aemond needs to trick into falling in love with him,” Aegon supplies, walking over to his younger brother to wrap his arm around the taller man. With his hand grasping tight on Aemond, Aegon shakes him and sharply hisses in his ear, “And you’re already fucking it up, little brother.”
With a scowl, Aemond jerks aggressively, successful with getting his brother off of him with a shrug of his shoulder and an elbow into Aegon’s stomach.
“Ooooh , ___ is the girl?” Ramsay exclaims, blue eyes lighting up with excitement at the remembrance of what they had all talked about about a week ago. “You should have told me earlier, and I wouldn’t have said all that… Now, I just reminded her of all the good times we had together–” Winking at Aemond, he finishes with, “It’s going to be tougher for you now, little Aemond.”
Aemond scoffs, eyes rolling off to the side. 
Vis’ younger sister, Dany, turns to Ramsay, her thick and pretty brows drawing together in confusion. “Isn’t that the girl that blocked you on all her social media accounts?”
“Yeah,” Ramsay’s head rolls slowly from one side to the other as if saying ‘what of it?’. “Because she was so madly in love with me and was so distraught to find out she wasn’t the only girl I was dating at the time…”
At that, Aemond decides it’s time to tune Ramsay’s annoying ass out. He huffs out, finishing his drink to leave his group of… people he hangs out with, to get another at the bar. 
He feels someone following behind him, but they don’t make themselves known until they are both standing by the bar.
“You’re acting like a bigger asshole than you usually are tonight,” Alys Rivers tells Aemond without any prompting after they order their drinks. Just as he was about to roll his eye for the hundredth time that evening, Alys shakes her head and holds a finger up, “ Don’t roll your eye at me… You know I’m right.”
Aemond sighs and says nothing because she is right, and so he sips on his drink instead as soon as it is slid towards him. 
Alys turns her whole body towards him, direct and headstrong like always when she tells him,  “How do you expect her to fall in love with you even just a little bit if you treat her like that?”
Aemond holds her gaze for only a few seconds before it drops down to the clinking of melting ice in the cup he had placed on the bar table. “This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever agreed to be a part of.”
The only person that he actually likes in his so-called friend group lets out a short chuckle, reminding him, “I’m pretty sure I told you that when Aegon first mentioned it.” 
Aemond lets out a dissatisfied hum, bringing his glass up to his mouth to take another swallow. 
“You know you can just… not do it. Leave the poor girl alone.”
Aemond frowns. “I’m already in it.”
Alys snorts at that. “Barely.”
Then Aemond goes quiet, deep in thought. Because once again, Alys is right. He can just back out, let Aegon do this stupid plan. Why should he waste his time on this? Waste his time with you? 
But then again… He doesn’t trust his brother to do anything right. So in the end, it has to be him.
“I have to do it,” he says in a way that leaves no room for doubt. “You know what’s at stake, Alys.”
At that, Alys sighs heavily and nods in relent. “Right. Of course…” Then she offers him an encouraging smile. “At least we now know it won’t be that hard for her to fall for you… She did date Ramsay after all…”
Aemond lets out a combination of a snort and a chuckle, tipping his glass towards Alys. “You’re right.”
Her small smile spreads into a bigger one, eyes rolling teasingly. “I’m always right, Aemond. You should know that by now,” then as she clinks her glass against his, she adds, “And I have one more prediction with this idiotic plan of yours.”
Leaning on the elbow he has rested on the table, Aemond tips his head to the side and decides to humor her with a question, “And what’s that?”
With a secretive smirk, Alys brings her wine glass up to her dark red lips and says before taking a sip, “You’re going to accidentally fall for her first.”
And for the first time in forever, Aemond actually lets out an uncharacteristically loud laugh, gazing incredulously at his friend like she has gone crazy.
Because that will never, ever happen. Not in a million years.
--
Much to your surprise, it is Gendry Baratheon who pulls you out of your sour mood with his silly jokes and cute flirty comments.
When he asks you to dance, you glance discreetly to Sansa for permission but she is too busy canoodling with her cousin , so you look towards the next best option — Robb. The oldest Stark sibling gives you a thumbs up. Their younger sister, Arya, dated the hot architecture major but dumped him before she dropped out of uni just the previous year to travel the world and learn from experience instead of books. 
You’re glad for his approval, because as you grind your hips against Gendry’s with his hands tight on your waist, you realize how much you are a sucker for pretty boys with dark hair and light eyes. That’s probably the only reason you swiped right on Ramsay.
“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while…” Gendry simmers, the pupils in his bright blue eyes blown with desire, pressing himself even firmer against you. Very firm indeed. 
“Yeah?” You smirk with an adorable tilt of your head, threading your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, bringing his face down closer to yours. “And why didn’t you?”
His long dark lashes flatter, eyes roaming your face as he murmurs somewhat absentmindedly, “You really don’t know how intimidatingly gorgeous you are, do you…?”
After a gleeful giggle, you let out a soft sigh as you lean in at the same time, wanting to close the distance between your lips. But just when your mouth is about to touch Gendry’s chapped yet alluring lips, you are being yanked away from him rather harshly with a hand that had just clasped around your elbow. At the rather disorienting motion of the pull, you end up smacking face first into the chest of the person who is the culprit of the rude interruption. 
The guy smells so goddamn good that you almost melt into him, until you remember why your nose is pressed onto him in the first place —
“What the heck?!” You cry out, prying yourself away from the person to glare at them. What you find is Aemond staring down at you before he glances over at the man behind you. 
“It’s a bit of a bastard move to try and stick your tongue down the throat of someone else’s date, don’t you think, Baratheon?” 
Both yours and Gendry’s mouth drop at Aemond’s accusatory statement. 
DATE?! WHAT IS THIS SCUMBAG ON ABOUT?!
“Sorry, man… I honestly didn’t know you two were a thing…” Gendry apologizes to Aemond, then looks at you longingly before he walks away, muttering under his breath, “Seven Hells, I need another drink.”
“Wait, Gen …” you trail off when he glances at you in a way that makes you falter, shaking his head with a heavy sigh of disappointment – which you think might not be because he thinks you’re taken but because he expected better of you to not cheat on your boyfriend . You want to stop him and tell him it wasn’t true because it’s not!
“No… come back…” You cry out pathetically, reaching out dramatically but he is already too far gone. You deflate, wallowing in your sadness for a couple more seconds until your ire strikes and you glower at the reason you did not end the night with making out with one of the hottest guys at the party. 
In the middle of the dancefloor, Aemond stands stiff rod straight with his hands clasped together behind his back, a shit-eating grin lifting his lips. 
Bitch, you declare in your mind. 
Your arms are wildly moving when you ask him incredulously, “What the hell was that?” Then quieter, you harshly whisper, “Why did you tell him I was your date?!”
“I invited you to this party, didn’t I?” Aemond questions, head cocking.
“Yeah…?”
“And you texted me you’re coming…” “You mean the text you ig–”
“So then that means you’re my date,” Aemond declares as if it’s that simple, cutting you off rudely. Then his hand clutches over his heart, pouting mockingly. “and you’ve hurt my feelings terribly by dancing with another guy.”
You might not be as sober as you thought because instead of remaining pissed off, you are actually kinda… impressed . This is the most personality you have ever seen Aemond have. A bit vindictive, sure, but at least he is not all emo sad sulking boy like you previously thought he was just. 
Though… unlucky for him… you can be quite a menace yourself. And you still haven’t forgiven him for leaving you on read, making you look dumb in front of his friends, and now cockblocking you from getting a hot piece of ass— Oh boy… You are heated all over again. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Aemond,” you say with poutiest of pouts (the one you use whenever you want something to go your way. And it usually works, just ask Jon and all the times he went out to the 24 hours convenience store a few streets down at two in the morning to grab whatever you wanted) then you mirror him, grabbing at your heart. 
Aemond’s eye flicker down from your begrudgingly cute face to where your hand lands, taking a sharp inhale as you squeeze your boob, before meeting your eyes again with his own wide, looking so confused at your sudden 180 — and also, why are you fondling yourself?! 
“How will I ever make it up to you?”
But you give him no chance to answer because you all of the sudden perk up, clapping your hands together as you exclaim, “I know! Since you wanted to dance with me so badly—“ you titter out a quite evil-sounding giggle, “— then we’re gonna dance, baby !”
Aemond frowns, shaking his head minutely, “I didn’t—“
But you’re already dancing — and quite horribly as well. Where was the rhythm you had when you were grinding with the Baratheon bastard? Aemond wonders while watching your every uncoordinated move with an unimpressed hmm. 
Little does he know, you’re dancing this bad on purpose. You can dance — maybe not as well as Meera but you can keep a rhythm. For Aemond though — your sweet, sweet date who is always so prim, proper and collected — oh how embarrassed he will be to be seen with someone who is not as perfect as him. Someone who can’t help but make a fool of herself and in turn, him , for being tied to her. 
With your fists pressing against your chest and your elbows out, you start to shake your arms back and forth. You’re actually surprised Aemond is able to hold eye contact with you… Maybe you’re not doing enough? So you suppose you need to turn it up a notch. 
And as if the DJ is your partner in crime, the next song she plays is absolutely perfect. 
I can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin’ and slidin’..
You start with something easy, dipping your hips side to side, enough to be sensual and then— 
I can do all them little tricks…
BAM!
The sprinkler! You even make the sound effect, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth to sound out the tcktcktcktck as you wave your arm above your head in a jerking motion. 
And keep the dick up inside it…
You jump, landing on your feet wide apart with bent and spread knees, smacking the top of your thighs loudly. Aemond’s face remains completely unfazed even though there is an audience starting to surround the two of you now. But your gaze only on each other. 
You can smack it, you can grip it…
You straighten up, turning around swiftly, slapping your butt next as you look over your shoulder at Aemond with a wink. You hear people hoot and holler — sounding a lot like Theon and Margaery. 
You can go down and kiss it…
Grinning at your friend’s encouragement, you drop down— 
All the way to the floor, laying on your front on the ground to wave your whole body, doing the worm so impressively and backwards instead of forward that the whole crowd cheers so loudly. 
You hop up just as fast onto your feet, looking down at yourself and find you were lucky enough to not have a drip of gross wetness on you from all the drinks sloshed onto the floor throughout the night. Now that’s a miracle. 
And every time he leave me ‘lone, he always tell me he miss it…
After shrugging to yourself, you make eye contact with Aemond again, stepping towards him with a sultry smirk, your fingers trailing on his body as you make your way around him, stopping behind him to breathily sing into his ear the next part…
He want a F-F-R-EEeeEee-A-K…
You suppress the giggle when you feel him shiver. Probably out of disgust and mortification — and you couldn’t be more proud of yourself. 
You move again, to complete your circling around him, finally almost in front of him again—
F-F-R-Eee—-
“—EEP!” 
That was you, bleeting louder than the music, all because you were suddenly grabbed by the waist and dipped down low by none other than Aemond Targaryen. 
The crowd goes wild, thinking that what is happening in front of them is a risqué kiss between the Ice Prince and the weird dancing girl. But it is not that all, because what Aemond’s pretty long hair has hidden from view of prying eyes is not a stolen kiss, but it’s his burning gaze on you as he growls a little too ferally, “You think you’re real cute, don’t you, love?”
As he impressively keeps the two of you in that position, his arm solidly around your waist and his other hand cupping the back of your head so gently, you can’t help but really look at him for the first time in your life. It’s hard to deny it, but he really is so easy on the eye. The slope of his nose is enviously perfect, his violet eye the brightest and most vibrant out of all his family, and…
Though he did not move one inch during your dance for him, Aemond is breathing quite as heavily as you are. The puff of his hot breath on your mouth has you looking down, and his eye follows where you look.
Aemond’s lips… They look so soft and the shape of them so sharp at the edges… You kind of want a feel of them against yours. Just to see…
His tongue peeks out, wetting his mouth, and you blink slow in rapt attention. Once he is done, you flutter your lashes, glancing back up to meet his gaze from beneath them. 
He is too undeniably pretty, it’s unfair!
If Aemond is moving closer towards you, you don’t notice. Your nerves are getting the better of you, all thoughts have gone out the window. 
And that is why you so suddenly blurt out with a crooked smile, “So… ya like jazz?”
Aemond’s features twist into one of confusion before he starts to laugh as he pulls the both of you up to stand. The crowd has disappeared, onto the next big thing — a fight that broke out in the kitchen. But you and Aemond stay, with also a few stragglers still dancing. 
You burn with embarrassment. This is Jon’s fault! He’s the one who suggested to watch The Bee Movie last night. And you know what’s also his fault? The reason you were born in the first place! If his mom — your god mother Lyanna, and also your mom’s best friend — hadn’t gotten knocked up by her summer fling, your mother wouldn’t have begged your dad to start a family so quickly because they’ve always wanted to have their kids grow up together. 
While you make threats at Jon Snow in your head �� promising he will rue the day he was born — Aemond is still laughing, telling you, “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”
You take a chance to glance sideways at him….
The smile that lights up Aemond’s face is so gorgeous and glorious that your mouth parts in awe and your heartbeat starts to race. 
As you continue to openly stare now, it dawns on you that this is the first you’ve seen Aemond with such a genuine smile. The others were either snarky smirks or put on to appease whoever he was speaking to. 
You can’t believe he has been hiding this from the world. 
“Wow… You should smile more often,” you murmur without really thinking about it. “It looks nice on you.”
His face flattens as soon as the words leave you, pink blushing his cheeks and his ears as he swiftly turns on his heels to walk away. You don’t allow him to get far, grabbing onto his hand to pull him back towards you, whining out with laughter, “Noooo … don’t be embarrassed! I’ll shut up!”
After heaving the most exhausted sigh you’ve ever heard, Aemond turns back around to face you. You flutter your lashes at him to seem innocent, an overly optimistic smile rounding your cheeks adorably. 
“Do you want to dance?” You ask him. “Like, for real this time?”
While he eyes you warily, Aemond finds himself nodding slowly. At his acceptance, you let out a goblin like giggle of heh heh heh while you take his other hand, both of his in both of yours.
You start to move, encouraging him to do so too with the bobbing of your head in time with the beat of the music. Clearing his throat, Aemond begins to move as well… And you don’t know how but… He makes the simplest move of swaying side to side look so… painful.
“Oh, okay, wow…” You mutter, head tilting while looking down at his feet. “… Not the best footwork…”
“I thought you said you’ll shut up?” Aemond snaps with a fierce glare your way. You manage to suppress another laugh, tightly pressing your lips together to motion a pretend zipper closing across the seam of it with your fingers before lacing your hand with his again. 
You spend the next half hour teaching him how to dance. It wasn’t particularly successful, but at least you had fun!
You think Aemond did too.
He smiled and laughed more times than you can count with both your hands.
And like you told him earlier, it looks nice on him.
--
Aemond drives you home before Ramsay’s band starts their set. Not because you didn’t want to watch them (which you didn’t, but that’s besides the point) but because the worm you did actually hurt your back a little, the pain didn’t start until later. 
So as you lay in your bed, you make a note to yourself: never do the worm again. 
Scratch that. 
Never do the worm again drunk. 
Come on! You can’t completely forego a classic!
Growing more tired, you check your phone one last time. Shooting your friends messages to get home safe and also to Jon — please pick me up some pain killers 🥺. 
Then for some reason the last message conversation you open up is the one with the newest contact on your phone. 
It’s barely a conversation , you think to yourself as you stare at the glaring read receipt. And yet that doesn’t stop you from double texting. 
To Aemond — I had fun with you tonight ☺️
You turn to your side just as the all too familiar ‘…’ bubble from his side of the conversation pops up. You frown at your phone; waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and…
Your eyes light up, grinning wide with an overjoyed giggle. 
Because Aemond didn’t leave you hanging this time. Not at all. 
From Aemond — I had fun with you as well.  — Have a good night.  — Rest well and take a Poppyvil for your back.  — If it gets worse tomorrow, let me know. 
You send him back an ‘I will 🤠’ before you begin to drift off to sleep, your phone pressed to your chest and a smile on your face put on there by the last person you would ever expect to — Aemond Targaryen.
untitled playlist 🎵 nothing else i could do · ella jane
--
author’s note: i hope you guys enjoy the first part of this story :)!! i’m so so excited for the rest!! the song that will be at the end of every chapter (or maybe scattered throughout the fic, i’m not sure yet lol) is a song that the oc puts in a playlist that she unknowingly makes with aemond in mind hehe.
let me know what you think!! feedback keeps us writers motivated :)!!
62 notes · View notes
eternally6pm · 1 year
Text
I think I am going a little mad 
from thinking too long about how Takumi is quite possibly depressed, 
and Mikoto’s death has triggered a very severe exacerbation of it. 
His family love him, but his older sister and brother aren’t the greatest at handling someone quite so sensitive (they were never shown how, and likely subconsciously recognise it from a distance as lack of discipline, impatience, weakness)
and Sakura is his best bet at finding emotional support, but he’s her older brother - he cannot bring himself to burden her with anything. 
Contrary to what some of his dialogue would have you believe, Takumi is profoundly thoughtful - in fact, he may suffer a little from overthinking, and tends to drive himself into mental corners, self-defeating cycles of hope, denial, regret.
Meanwhile Camilla is also more than just some ridiculous armour, a sister complex and a yandere tendency. 
There is a melancholy to her that feels like a deeply embedded sort of mourning for the childhood that she was denied, 
alongside an unhealthy helping of Venting with Violence. 
I find her violent in many ways: violently affectionate, violently sensual, violently physical. 
To an extent, I think this to be a sort of mirror of Takumi’s behaviour. Both of them are brash, but while 
Takumi is deliberately alienating, Camilla is determinedly possessive. 
Takumi lashes out, while Camilla attempts to nurture, 
and both do this in response to the traumas they carry with them, but also as an attempt at absolution, and if you’re still with me somehow I have another 45 minutes of straight up stream of consciousness about how this makes them perfect for one another in their similarities and complementary ways, but also sometimes horribly toxic in their inability to cope with the extreme emotions they are saddled with but have never been given the security to properly
5 notes · View notes
sunboki · 1 month
Text
— ENDLESS WINTER. a Christopher Bahng fiction
Tumblr media
Christopher Bahng x f. reader
TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst
WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing
WORD COUNT. 12k words
AUG'S NOTES. if there’s ever been a more spontaneous fic in history it would be this… every sentence is write is purely self indulgent…. (genuinely a written version of the stories i make in my head while laying in bed)
SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before you’re captured.
alternatively :
Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.
Tumblr media
Hiding in the kitchen’s cupboard was definitely not your intention.
Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not — this one just a bit more severe than usual.
Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.
Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the “Endless Winter”, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, “endless winter”.
She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.
Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.
Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horse’s hooves.
Growing, learning.
Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.
However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.
A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.
Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.
Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cook’s ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.
Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.
Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically — if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.
The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.
The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.
Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.
Had been peaceful.
A scream from outside redirects the table’s conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.
Your blood runs cold.
Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isn’t their own, blades in clutch.
Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. It’s chaos.
Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.
A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.
Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.
Smell.
Ms. Maewether warned you a Beast’s smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.
So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding — forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.
Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.
Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point you’re pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.
Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.
Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.
It doesn’t. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.
Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.
It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.
Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs open—horror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.
For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.
You won’t leave, simple.
As long as the Beast Clan believes they’ve killed everyone, you’re safe.
That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.
Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.
Granted, you’re not the most skillful hunter, but you’re also not horrendous with a bow. Except, it’s not your aiming abilities you stress, it’s the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.
Four weeks in and you’re left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.
Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse would’ve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.
A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.
Shoot!
The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesn’t suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.
However, your success is short-lived.
Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.
Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.
First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.
Beast.
With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesn’t look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors would’ve revealed him to you but that.
This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.
“Hyung, what is this?” He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit you’d killed earlier.
His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on you—knowledgeable as to what you were.
The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.
Mage.
Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.
His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.
“One remained, huh.”
Tumblr media
It’s a fever dream walking into the Kingdom that, compared to yours, looks positively flourishing with life. Beasts of all kinds roam about, carrying on with their daily lives, oblivious to the winds of death they’ve swept your way.
Everything in your body feels as if it’s shutting down, unable to feel the sensation of your legs as you trudge forward, the younger, much kinder Beast ensuring you kept pace.
Freezing temperatures carry on the longer snow falls, gluing strands of hair to your forehead, blanketing your lashes while your nose runs incessantly.
In front of you now lies the castle, far grander than you could’ve ever imagined. Twin spires peek above the low-hanging clouds, stone columns towering above.
From your distance you spot two knights positioned on either side of the entryway, large armored helmets with hawk feathers adorning the ridges.
One knight stops your ascent, the light-haired man rolling his eyes profusely.
“Minho, this is important.”
“Important enough you’re bringing a Mage into the Kingdom?”
His voice smooth as honey, he sports a dominant tone when speaking. Stare observant, he watches the other Beast’s expressions with uncanny precision.
“Because if you haven’t noticed Hyunjin,” He leans forward a bit, whispering. “You have the entire Kingdom’s attention.”
At this, either of the Beasts who escorted you turn around, and upon doing so are met with hundreds, if not thousands of eyes boring into their soul. Whether it’s younger Beasts or aged soldiers, those heinous vermillion orbs seem to see through you.
You gulp.
“C’mon,” Hyunjin harshly beckons, nudging you forward through the gates with the younger quick on his tail.
Every color in the Palace is monochromatically grey, although strikes of royal blue reside in large drapes hung from perched balconies.
Similar guards to those outside sift throughout the room, familiar hawk feathers litter everywhere in sight, paving paths to the core of the room where a throne sits.
Pointed edges flank either side of the massive chair, the ocean blue rug underneath reflecting up and out of the ceiling — a glass design stretching wide across the throne room, emphasizing the dusky weather outside.
According to the younger Beast whose title you learned as Jeongin, the King was currently participating in a hunt with Changbin (the lead hunter of the Palace), so after hasty appreciation of the sheer volume of this breathtaking castle, you’re forced toward the dungeons.
Jeongin wears a pitying frown, promising to return with some food to your chambers in the case the King doesn’t arrive for a while.
At least someone in this Kingdom doesn’t insist you’re beheaded.
“Finally, somebody else is here.”
A voice erupting from the darkening depths to your right make you jump, chained wrists clanging abruptly. Through minimal lighting of the burning lamps hastened upon the walls, you make out the silhouette of a man, face bunching in a sweet manner when he smiles.
Unusually, his hands aren’t chained.
“What’re you in here for?” You begin, gaze narrowed in confusion. The chubby-cheeked stranger smiles haphazardly.
“I would ask you the same thing. I’m the King’s Advisor, he just gets tired of me and puts me in here sometimes,” Your chamber-mate sighs, and once you take in what he professed, the urge to laugh becomes too strong to control.
Laughing for the first time in quite a while is sort of relieving, especially when this new acquaintance of yours begins whining his dismay, aimlessly trying to hush your giggles.
Red eyes. You can see them blinking up at you, gleaming when he grins his pointed teeth.
Quickly pausing, you wait in horror as he gradually sniffs in.
Your stomach sinks.
“Wait… You’re a Mag—“
His phrase is cut off by a loud ringing noise, a familiar echo of keys tunneling down the dungeons stairwell.
Another stranger unlocks the door. He’s burly, with curly hair in disarray. Cuffs of animal fur wraps around defined biceps, his top a tight-fitted arrangement of fur and woven leather paired with small iron spikes studding the shoulder lining.
A scar passes down the corner of his lip, long since healed but remaining faded.
“C’mere,” He ushers, voice gruff and rumbling when he unlocks your shackles, big hand pushing you forward up the stairs.
If anybody here had pure Beast in their bloodline, it would be this man. His demeanor is rough, but his touch on your back is surprisingly gentle whilst guiding you upward.
Again you’re granted with the wondrous sight of the Throne Room in all its historic glory, although your gaze directed at the floor keeps you ignorant to so many heads bowed, so many voices cast to silence upon the click of footsteps approaching.
And when you look up, you meet strikingly blue eyes—perhaps a genetic mutation of a sort.
They’re stunning, enrapturing almost, and you find the need to break eye contact immediate, more dire than normal while staring down at you.
Plump, full lips and perfectly sculpted facial features seem that of a Greek god’s, too ethereal to exist in your reality. A glittering, silver crown sits stark atop a black nest of hair.
Either arm rests on the sides of the throne, and you swore you’d never seen someone look so, King-like. That, and the massive cape of wolf-skin draped over his back.
A devil, dressed as an angel.
“Your Highness, this Mage was found near the L/N Kingdom by Hwang Hyunjin and Yang Jeongin while scouting the territory.” A palace-woman announces, the same guard who lingered outside, Minho, standing to your side.
Your blood boils, disregarding every ounce of amazement once inhabited.
It’s him. The man responsible for the demise of loved ones you couldn’t count on all of your fingers and toes.
Minho, as if sensing your frothing rage, mutters through his helmet a staggered warning—remaining upright and unmoving at attention.
“Do not move and do not look into his eyes unless you’re asking for death.”
Your patience dissipates, lip twitching involuntarily.
You can’t remember the last time you were genuinely angry. You were happy, surrounded by people you loved.
Those people weren’t here now, they were killed.
“You murderer! You’re a—“ Your attempt at lashing out at the King stalled when Minho kicks the crevice between your knees, forcing you down on the carpet below.
“Monster! A bloody— fucking— Monster!”
Palace representatives gasp their bewilderment, some beckoning you away to the dungeons, others urging Minho to end you right here and now.
It wouldn’t matter, would it?
The King’s raised hand stalls the accusations, his familiar clicking footsteps nearing closer till he stands before you.
Shifting down into a squat, the man tips your chin up to meet cerulean again, his head slightly tilted to the side.
“Don’t get it mixed up little one,” He murmurs, the pad of his thumb controlling your movement.
“I did not kill your family. Your family killed themselves.”
Fist sharply winding around for a punch, he catches it before you can even register your predicament, iron grip strong enough you fear he might just snap your wrist in half.
“And I wouldn’t recommend fighting back, otherwise I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Concluding his threat the further he bends your wrist, you whine, face scrunching from the pain until he finally stops, amusedly surveying your expression.
Denying your own enraged shaking, you suck your teeth, focus vehemently pinned onto him.
“Why would you care about my safety?” You snarl, trying to wriggle his hold off to no avail.
“Because,” The King cocks his brows. “I like you.”
About to spit another word, he interrupts you, index tracing the veins of your arm.
“Plus, I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.”
You shiver.
Tumblr media
Your second day and you feel as if you’re officially going insane.
The only person tolerable here is Jeongin, that chamber guard whose name you don’t know, and Felix, the castles cook. You barely see the King, and even when he’s present he’s usually quartered in his study.
What he does there remains unknown, information learned in the mere form of startled maids leaving the room and gossip among those wandering the Kingdom.
“Do you know what he does?”
Felix looks up from the dish he was laying in front of you, wispy blond locks bouncing with the movement.
“Does what?” He piques, ridding a stray piece of hair clinging to your sleeve.
“The King, what does he do all day long?”
One thing about Felix you love, his honesty. Regardless of if most would tell a quick fib and flee, Felix, although occasionally working around a topic, takes the time to actually explain things to you.
Allows you to learn more of the place you’re going to have to call home.
“Hm..” He pulls a chair from your right to drop into, and for a moment, you see Ms. Maewether in that smile of his. Your heart aches.
“Chris— I mean, King Bahng is always busy. He plans trade agreements, oversees the hunts, and basically keeps this castle alive.”
Chris?
“Who’s Chris?”
Felix nearly squeaks, burying his head in his hands. Evidently, you weren’t supposed to hear that part, but an eagerness to know more about this solitary King kept your hesitance at bay.
“That’s his name. Christopher Bahng, but you’re not allowed to call him that and not allowed to tell anyone about us having this conversa-“
“Tell who?”
You quite literally almost fall backwards in your seat, failing to anticipate the pair of hands placed on Felix’s shoulders.
A pair of hands, followed by a pair of ocean blue eyes, boring right into you and the horrified boy in front of you.
King Bahng. In the flesh.
“Oh.. Hey Chri— Hello Your Highness.”
Again he corrects. These two must know each other.
“Tell who, Felix?” He speaks, tone nothing short of teasing—though the boy looks just as startled, practically sweating through his clothing.
Still adorning that flanking wolf-cape of his, his dark hair is slightly messy, expression distorted curiously.
You hate him to admit, but King Bahng is horribly attractive.
“Nothing! Nothing at all, Your Highness,” Felix chirps, fixing you with a ‘Don’t say a word’ glare you cease to argue with.
Rising up from your seat quickly as if you had any duties in this Kingdom to tend to, you find yourself stalling.
You have so many questions. …And the overwhelming urge to slap him across the face.
You’ve received a fair warning on the latter.
“I’ll be off now, Your Highness.”
The last words come out involuntary, used to referring to your own father this way. It made you sick to know you regarded his murderer the same.
And though the King didn’t stand extremely tall (considering how young Beasts were already your height), his hulking stature felt as if it could swallow you whole, pointed canines flashing when he smiled, sending your head reeling.
Pleased.
King Bahng was pleased hearing something nonthreatening come out of your mouth.
Vile.
Yet, you simply curtsied and hurried off, ceasing to notice the immediate growl Felix directed in the King’s direction.
“Good lord, I know she smells good but you’re practically undressing her with your eyes,” The freckled boy grumbles, returned with an uninterested expression from his friend.
Before the King can head off to whatever meeting he has planned, however, he spins on his heel.
“Have you consulted Seungmin about the scent-blocking salve?”
“Possessive, are we?”
His glare shuts the cook up immediately.
“If there is one Mage left, it’s mine. And since she’s the survivor, she’s mine.”
Yeah, he’s not beating the possessive allegations. But if he’s going to gain your trust, and eventually, after much thought, become mates, he’s keeping every other Beast in the Kingdom at a distance from you at all times.
“Jeongin will report when it’s completed. And Chris?”
“Hm?”
“Don’t expect her to warm up to you.”
King Bahng hums.
“I don’t.”
And with that, Felix follows your exit, leaving the King to his own devices, your nectar-sweet smell lingering in his nose.
Tumblr media
“If I stare at the same wall for hours and hours, shouldn’t it break by now?”
“You’re a Mage, not telekinetic,” Han replies, repetitively scanning over a piece of parchment assumed to be a guest list.
In the midst of your incessant boredom, you found yourself following the King’s Advisor around, peering over his shoulder at the endless list of haughty names written in languid ink strokes. 
Amongst them, you ceased to find your father’s name. You knew it wouldn’t be there, but somehow, you wished if you blinked enough it would magically appear. 
King L/N, written in that same, cursive font. 
Rounding a corner, you conclude if there’s anyone you avoid more than King Bahng (a.k.a Chris), it was Hyunjin. That man was a serpent in a Beast’s body.
Catching sight of his dreaded ponytail, you hastily retrace your steps, hiding behind a massive doorframe while Han stares at you as if you’re a rodent scurrying at his shoes.
“He won’t bite y’know.”
“If only you would’ve been there when he first found me,” You whisper angrily, practically clawing at the wood desperately till he leaches you out.
Leaching enough, in fact, that you end up right in Hyunjin’s line of sight, who surveys you up and down with a cocked brow to the point you’re sure steam is billowing from your ears. 
Mocking. Ruby-red, mocking eyes.
He does bite. He sinks his teeth into the flesh and tears. 
You won’t bleed without biting back. 
Han’s iron grip tightens on your arm as slowly, oh so slowly, Hyunjin walks closer. 
The strategist prowls, edging right up in your face—noses a thread-width apart.  
His glower sets your fury alight, lips curled in a deriding notion.
“No need to glare, wouldn’t want wrinkles ruining that face of yours.”
“No need to get so close unless you plan to kiss me, mutt.”
Though, just as Hyunjin preapres to lunge, a big hand holds him back, animal fur cuffs indicating it isn’t the King who stepped in.
The man who had fetched you from the chambers earlier divided either of you. Shorter, but evidently stronger. 
“Control yourselves, both of you. For as long as she stays in the Kingdom, she’s The King’s property—“
“I am no one’s property,” You snarl, and the guard turns.
Basked in clear lighting, you can finally see him. Honing dark brown hair hanging above his eyebrows, the same scar resides by his mouth, though, his eyes are much kinder than you expected.
Taking a slow inhale, he reads your conflicted expression like an ornate mirror.
“One mage in the Kingdom of Beasts? Sorry to break it to you, but yes, you are his property. So as long as she’s here, nobody lays a finger on her, understood?”
Glancing to each person, either of them ease their apprehension, the bewildered Jisung next to you stifling a breath, Hyunjin rolling his eyes with a loud huff.
Baiting seconds pass, and in that period of time do you realize you never caught his name. Specifically, the guard’s name.
“Excuse m-“
“Seo Changbin,” Han interjects. “His name is Seo Changbin.”
Ah. Right.
Now on the roster of least-likely to kill you, Jeongin, Changbin, Felix, and Han.
Filled with a need to evade, you stand merely as a spectator as each horridly red hue snaps to stare at you, your heart spiking an alarming rate. 
The King’s Advisor’s fingers tighten to the point you’re sure he’s blocking blood flow.   
“You need to leave. Jisung, get in contact with Seungmin and see when the salve is done,” Changbin instructs, already shoving Hyunjin away.
Salve. What salve?
Failing to give you any explanation, you’re dragged off, boisterously complaining before the highly annoyed man abruptly pauses, finger nudging your forehead irritably.  
“You smell.”
Then he leaves, and you’re left to wonder if you’re still in primary school or the Kingdom of Beasts.
You smell? What’s that supposed to mean?
Tumblr media
First thing in the morning, you’re torn from your slumber with a blazing sun scorching your eyes.
Your canopy beds silken drapes doing little to block the attack, you whine to an apologetic Jisung who merely sighs in return.
“Sorry sleeping beauty, but we have an appointment to attend this morning. Can you handle getting dressed on your own?”
You roll your eyes, groggily pulling yourself upright. “I was an heiress, not helpless.” 
To which he cracks a miniature grin and slips out the door, allowing you to hurriedly strip off your chemise and messily arrange your stays and petticoats.
Out of all things you’d been deprived of, a part of the L/N Clan unable to be divided was your garments.  
Somewhere, in the midst of fabric and citrus scented soap, you swear you can still smell bits and pieces of home.
What this appointment entailed you failed to ask, gingerly hustled down winding hallways barely illuminated with sunlight. 
The Kings Advisor expertly winds further and further down, georgian architecture littered in symmetrical golden portraits and decorum, casement glass windows twinkling as you walked past. 
Having reached a dead end, you’re pleasantly surprised to watch Han jar a brass doorknob open, paving a breathtaking view of the garden ahead. 
Garden had to be an understatement. This amount of foliage was nothing short of a forest. 
Flowers of all kind surround your walk to a shrouded greenhouse, abnormally brick relative to it’s stone-castle counterpart. Its walls are overgrown in slithering vines, door nearly invisible without proper inspection.
Jisung, having noticed your amazed expression, chuckles.
Granted, it’s been years since you’d seen any form of green vegetation, your astonishment felt justified. 
“We’ve arrived.”
Oh how you wish to stay here forever. Not captive by the Beast Clan, no, but in this garden, hidden.
And if the last door took effort to pry open, this was a new challenge entirely. Through thickets of dense hedge and tangled branches, Jisung had to quite literally ram himself into the chittering wood for entry.
“Knock next time would you?” A voice projects from inside, belonging to a man clad in rounded spectacles, a slightly hooked nose, and cleanly hair parted to the side. 
The Kings Advisor, apparently having known him, beams his prize-winning smile upon seeing the man.
“Seungminnnn—“ Han drawls out, excitedly waddling over to wrap him in a crushing hug. Stiffly, Seungmin pats his back, an action you fondly watch from afar. 
“Ah!” The more ebullient of the two springs up, turning to you. “This is Seungmin, he runs the apothecary here.” 
Nodding stiffly, Seungmin ushers you to one of the many mahogany chairs circling a gateleg table; a vase—likely jade with its pale green hue—filled with indigo hydrangea presides in the center.
“And,” Han’s outburst cuts off your awe. “He’s practically my little brother.”
Now you’re in awe again, but for a different reason. And by the evident frown on Seungmin’s face, he can tell.
“Shocking, right?”
Yes, shocking for certain.
Though, before you can reply, Han slaps his hands on either of the man’s shoulders, expression transformed into one of seriousness. 
“About time I left then, yeah?” Was spoken while his form hurriedly retreated out the door, leaving you with more questions than answers to what just occurred.
“..He forgot something again.”
Biting back your laugh, you finally take a seat, given ample time as Seungmin shuffles off to the side to acknowledge your everything to its fullest extent. 
Matching the plant-infested interior, verdant drawers scatter the corners, a lone, looming medicinal cabinet left ajar as the chemist poured over a variety of assorted concoctions. 
Air stained with a damp smell of earth, you notice, much to your curiosity, the longevity of such a place.
This apothecary, though inside the castle, feels like an entirely new settlement of its own. An establishment existing before the war, rebuilt (inefficiently) enough to where it was only required to stand stable.
From first sighting you’d grown an attachment to it, but this newfound understanding, these newfound details setting the apothecary apart from your predicament let you imagine yourself anywhere else, back to a nostalgia you longed for.
A short term fix.
“This.” You’re handed a phial from overhead. It’s a slightly green substance, thicker in texture that rests heavy in your hand. “Is for you.”
Slipping across from you, he surveys your analyzing, arms crossed over a deep brown waistcoat.
“And this is..?” You inquire, looking up from the cork-sealed glass.
“A salve. You had better not waste it, material is low as is and I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.”
Well that didn’t answer your question. You’ve heard conversation about a specific salve for days on end, but no genuine explanation caved in—
‘I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.’
Repeatedly mulling over the words, you can practically feel your heart palpitating, head beginning to spin. 
..End already? The endless winter.. ending?
“So you’re saying,” You murmur, placing down this special salve in order to truly regard him.
“There’s a way to end the Endless Winter?”
His brows crease critically, seemingly sarcastic.
“There’s an end to everything sweetheart. Life, death. Start, finish. War,” He meets your eyes with a conniving grin, a face you hadn’t seen on the man before.
“Peace.”
Automatically, you roll your eyes. 
Peace? Peace when there was no peace left to be made, no kingdom remaining to make peace with?
“And how do you think the nonexistent Mage will make peace with Beasts?”
Seungmin grins.
“Well there is a Mage left,” He scornfully states, flicking your forehead whilst you palm the sting, frown evident. 
“And as far as making peace goes, marriage.”
Marriage. 
What.
“Wait- so you’re telling me big bad King Bahng could’ve just hooked up with a Mage and called it a day and everything would be fine?”
Seungmin clears his throat.
“One, Bahng doesn’t ‘hook up’. Two, it’s not as easy as that.”
Of course it’s not as easy as that. Why would it be?
You wish to claw your eyes out of your head, anticipating his explanation. 
“Because if you weren’t aware before, marriage ties between Mage and Beast are very difficult to establish. Bahng is picky on everything, and even pickier when it comes to mates.”
But before you can argue there were thousands of suitors roaming the L/N Kingdom for him to pick from, Seungmin interrupts. 
“Plus, if anyone else were King I’m sure we would’ve had peace decades ago. You’re lucky you’re in the castle right now, otherwise you would be eaten alive.”
Your face scrunching worriedly, he rakes an exasperated hand through his hair, plopping down on the vanity’s chair.
“Your scent.”
Again, you’re reminded of Han’s ‘you smell’ comment. Why is it showing up a second time?
He groans frustratedly, wordlessly praying you understand.
You don’t.
“Mage have specific scents. You can’t smell it since you’re not Beast. But let me tell you, you smell fucking delightful.”
Oh.
That’s what he meant by eaten alive, and the entire ‘you smell’ conundrum.
Seungmin, rather entertained with the shock written on your face, shrugs his shoulders, nonplussed by the crassness of his earlier statement.
“Now you get the use of the salve, right? And why you’re not allowed to leave the castle?” 
Your mouth feels dry of response, beckoned toward the exit without so much as a peep passing through your lips.
However, right as the you’re halfway gone, he stops you, brows cocked.
“Do us all a favor and marry him, will you?”
And like that, the apothecary’s door thumps closed behind you.
If only the “him” he was referring to wasn’t King Bahng, you might’ve agreed.
Tumblr media
Marriage in the L/N Kingdom had been a sacred event.
An event you’d been prepared for since childhood, fed daydreams of a day you would be married to a prince-like man with perfect features and a perfect personality, every element fabricated from a young age.
Truly, you loved it. Loved visualizing a life shared with your loved one, whoever that man would be.
Little did you know he might just be King of the Beast Clan.
No. You refused. Marrying a murderer, the murderer of your family, was the last thing you would oblige to. 
He sent the command, he led the attack, and you’d rather die than give him the satisfaction of marriage.
Although, one problem. Similar to life back at the L/N Kingdom, supplies only lasted for some time before shipments became low, and pretty soon (according to Seungmin) the salve you were given would run dry. 
Meaning, your meager chance of protection lay completely exposed, susceptible to any Beast daring enough to try something.
Two sides of a coin remained. Heads, you marry the murderer of a King and spring returns, or tails, you abstain and are eventually left vulnerable.
You’ve always been the person to confront a difficulty head-on, but, in this case, a different, defensive approach crossed your mind.
Run away. 
Despite Seungmin’s sensible reminder to not leave the castle, what other option sounded suitable? 
Die physically or mentally, pick your poison. 
Or maybe, never drink the poison in the first place. Evade.
Three days have passed since you received the salve, and after applying it behind your ears and between your elbows at dawn, you were free to do as you pleased—within the castle walls. 
Yet, tomorrow’s dawn would be divergent. Tomorrow, you would be days away from the Beast Clan. 
Sneakily roaming around, you managed to find certain outlets to your disposal. Nearby the chambers you’d been kept in was a moth eaten, hooded cloak seemingly unworn for quite awhile. Ideal for an anonymous escape.
Furthermore, amongst the colloquy during a dinner with Changbin and Felix in the Great Hall, you distinctly recall overhearing information about the stables.
If you were to flee, you needed a horse, and thanks to the guard, you knew right where to find one.
Unable to sleep the night before, your dry eyes blink through the dense darkness, sweeping the candlestick from your side table for a minimal source of vision.
Lathering a copious amount of salve all over your skin, you slip down the winding stairwell, grateful for the shadowed moonlight gazing down upon the Throne Room as you venture.
Bingo. There’s the cloak.
Sweeping the fabric over your shoulders, you slip the hood over your head, creeping down the steep steps leading into a surrounding ward.
On your left, across the butcher’s vendors. 
Blindly searching, the whinny of a mare alerts your close distance, carefully winding through lead ropes and linked fences to the first horse in sight. 
You have to be fast, the sun will rise at any moment it pleases, and it’s impertinent you’re gone by then.
Hoisting a mere saddle pad over the back, you deem the saddle too noisy, slipping the reins overheard and adjusting their length accordingly. 
Jogging forwards, you’re brisk to gain a running leap atop the horse prior to the thunder of hooves charging forward.
Closer to the gatehouse you near, a luckily open drawbridge allowing easy passage across. 
Faster, faster. You can’t afford to slow down. Daylight is beginning to peer above the horizon, warming your back with rays of sunlight amongst a snowy landscape.
And when the kingdom wakes up, it’ll be as if you were never there. 
But, an undecided factor stayed. Where would you go? There was no kingdom left for you, no home to go to.
For now, you needed to prioritize finding a hiding spot, if only for a night, that supplies warmth.
Given the opportunity, too long out here and you or your horse will indefinitely succumb to the frigid conditions.
Veering off sharply, you sidle beneath a barren magnolia tree, its thick trunk barely blocking the unforgiving wind. Pretty soon you’ll have to keep on, but for now, you’ll savor the temporary peace.
Blue skies indicate it must be nearing morning, and you assume the castle will be slowly waking up. By now, King Bahng would likely be awake as well, you’ve been told he doesn’t sleep well anyway. 
Scouts. He’ll send scouts most likely. Knights like Minho or Hyunjin.
Ugh, the mere thought of Hyunjin finding you a second time makes you nauseous. 
Except, the longer you consider it, King Bahng is the worst case scenario.  
I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.
Those words send an entourage of chills slithering up your spine, and not from the cold.
Because while Hyunjin is a type of spiteful strong you want to avoid primarily due to how annoying it is, King Bahng is a quiet strong, the kind that wouldn’t confess his anger, but have you witness it firsthand instead.
Enough thinking. You have to go. 
Using the bumpy roots below you for leverage, you wind a leg around the horse’s back, aiming to reach the edge of the territory before midday.
That was the goal, until you’re pummeling to the ground.
The moment is instantaneous, your horse releasing a shriek as it’s swiped right off its feet, slipping onto hard, icy ground and simultaneously crushing you in its descent. 
Almost like vomit you feel the screech of pain building in your throat, a numbness in your right leg along with the warmth of blood soaking your clothing doing little to sustain level breathing.
Then, in the midst of your hysterics, you look upon the visible side of your horse, a pair of claw marks scratched right across its stomach.
Scrambling out to the best of your abilities, you bite your tongue, praying this is one of Hyunjin’s sick, sadistic games and not an obvious ambush.
You refuse to die like this. You’ve survived once and you’ll be damned to give up now.
“I’m impressed. You’re not as weak as I thought.”
A sneering tone speaks from behind you. According to the claw marks, Beast, but not one you remember. And with your current state—being unable to rise to your feet—you’re utterly incapable of ascertaining an identity.
Instantly, your hand reaches up to trace the alcove beneath your ear and neck, any ounce of hope disappearing upon feeling for the salve. 
Gone.
“Now, care to tell me what a Mage is doing in Beast territory?”
He’s hiding behind you on purpose, drawing you into a sensory overload, a panicked frenzy of adrenaline and fear. 
Deer caught in headlights. 
A curved claw unlike those in the Kingdom of Beasts winds your head back, staring straight into the face of something you can hardly deem Beast, more like wolf.
He has this terrifying look in his eyes, and breath that stenches of metal and flesh.
This man is the kind of Beast you’d grown up believing in. Violent, merciless.
Minho, Hyunjin, hell, anyone. Please. 
As if second instinct, you assess everything around you, snatching the closest stick to you and jarring the sharp end through the bottom of his chin with all your might.
A gagged, sort of howling sound emits from above you, putrid-smelling blood spraying all over your face. 
In split seconds does another form appear in your peripheral, your dread heightening before ultramarine stills the horror in its tracks.
King Bahng. 
He’s quiet, expertly slicing the back of the neck, the attacker dropping to the ground motionlessly.
“I could’ve handled it myself.”
It’s a lie. He doesn’t respond.
If the first Beast hadn’t killed you, he certainly would. He said it himself, whenever he pleased, he could break you.
So when King Bahng’s arms extend toward your position on the ground, you prepare for the worst, crawling backwards as quickly as possible.
Surprisingly, he kneels down in front of you, and, as your vision clears, you notice the concern written on his face. 
Weird, the feeling compiling in your gut as he looks at you like that. The way your eyes build with tears, lungs finally hacking for as much non-congested air available without a single word said.
Just by his expression alone, you’re a fit of blood and tears, the aftershock hardly helping ease the experience. 
Crying, in the middle of a forest, with King Bahng as a witness.
“I know, I know,” Is all he whispers, and you barely recognize when he hoists you into his arms, the searing sting of your leg your only indication of movement. 
Smoothly maneuvering you again his chest, he cradles your body close, one hand directing his horse as you ride back to what you assume to be the Kingdom. 
Through the aching pain, you can’t even be upset about returning, merely focusing on the subtle warmth of his body and the strength willing you to say something. 
“You speak nothing of this moment,” You murmur, the King’s body erupting into a tremor of laughter. 
“I speak whatever I like whenever I like, sweetness. No one touches what’s mine, yeah?”
Mine. You hate the effect he has on you. 
Yet, your snarky remarks are depleting in tandem with your energy; the soothing, shushing sound he’s making and the repetitive thump of hooves doing little to keep you from sleeps tempting beckon. 
Eyes drifting closed, his tightened grip pulls you closer, your cheek smushed into the fabric of his coat whilst lost in slumber.
“Hold on a bit longer for me, we’ll be there in no time.”
Tumblr media
Recovery, to your luck, is swift. Either that, or Kim Seungmin is secretly a Mage, because within a week spent off your leg, you’re back to normal. 
A little sensitive to weight, but overall, healed.
Initially, despite the agony blazing through your body, you were thankful you barely recalled seeing anyone, swept into the apothecary immediately. 
The last thing you wanted to see after returning would be the faces. Plus, what about your friends? Jeongin, Felix, Han? You’re sure they looked destroyed. 
Except, it’s all fake. A feign kindness given to you only by sympathy. What do the faces matter anyway? 
You gorge that question to the very back of your throat when said Cook walks through the apothecary’s door, utmost apprehension apparent. He grabs your face, brows knit—but not in an angry sort of way, more like staving-down-tears. 
“Don’t you ever do something like that ever again.”
Past him, you can’t help but smile seeing Seungmin’s softened expression watching Felix, adoring his preciousness just as you are. 
“I promise.”
Nodding curtly, he turns around, leaving you to view the many ingredients scattered across his apron. 
He rushed here, cute.
“I’ll bring breakfast down here.”
Craning, you can barely make out his deep voice, lowered to a nearly inaudible decibel. Ears flushed pink, you’re filled with a worrisome amount of happiness seeing Felix’s embarrassment trying to maintain an upset facade.
“Hm? What was that?”
Ah, at this point you’re picking fun.
“I said I’ll bring breakfast down here.” 
Precipitously slipping outside, both you and Seungmin are left to stifle your bubbling laughter, graced with the most appetizing platter you’ve had the pleasure of eating a few minutes later.
However merciful those first few days were, dissipated. And in a short amount of time, you could feel the eyes boring into your back, the questions resting on the tip of tongues.
All the same, nobody mentioned it. And if anything, that made the paranoia grow. 
It was gradual. The subtle shadow you swore you saw in corners, the terror stopping your heart in your chest when you swear someone breathed down your neck. 
Your body may be healed, but your mind certainly isn’t.
To a degree that two weeks later, you’ve found sleep nearly impossible, lingering in the kitchen in the wee hours of morning, teetering on your wits end.
Some occasions it’s Felix who you see first, wiping the sleep from his eyes, loading coal into the furnaces to heat the kitchen for the day. Other days it’s handmaids, shuffling around busily, carrying goods to and fro.
This time, Minho arrives first, for once wearing regular clothing opposed to his usual armor, steaming saucer in clutch. 
Perhaps this is an opportunity, he is a knight after all.
“Hey Minho?”
Tired eyes sweep to your figure on the table, the rim of his cup held to his lips.
“I’m too paranoid and at this point I might die of sleep deprivation,” You huff, referring to his raging, bed-headed self . “…Could you teach me how to use a sword?”
He’s staring at you like you‘ve grown two heads, pulling a chair back to settle in, arms crossed over his chest. 
No sentences need to be said aloud, merely spectating the gears turning in his head enough to set your nerves on edge. 
Yet, in the midst of your waiting, you note a peculiar bruise peeking from his collarbone, another lingering a tad bit lower. 
“And you think a sword is going to protect you?”
The question is genuine, lacking the bemused nature you were expecting.
Another thing you’ve noted throughout your sleepless nights was the continuous amount of times you’d watch the King’s Advisor sneak into his quarters, a realization keeping your response baited.
Seems his love life isn’t a concern.
“Hey, those marks on your neck and shoulder, are those from Ha—“
“When do you want to train.”
All lightheartedness vanishing, you have to chew your lip to avoid ticking him off further by giggling.
“Tomorrow?”
Pushing in his chair with an agreeable hum, you merely whisper a hurried “Thank you” he grunts at, rushing off to who knows where and giving you leeway to recover from the hilarity of it all.
Tomorrow, however, came far too early, not anticipating to be woken up at the crack of dawn, grumpy enough the prospect of blackmailing the King’s Advisor became dangerously tempting. 
Yeah, good luck. He’s not budging until you’re on your feet. 
Seems you underestimated Han Jisung’s stubbornness.
Rushed into a loose gown, you’re led to the Inner Ward, an open sector in the middle of the castle. 
Upon being met with a too-smug Minho, you can practically see the word “payback” hovering above his head, busying himself with fetching supplies.
Perhaps this is karma coming back to bite you.
Ouch.
Except, you’re puzzled. You’re being taught how to deul, yet your teacher isn’t adorning armor nor gear of any kind.  
At your confusion, the knight chokes a cocky guffaw.
“First, we learn how to properly move.” He hands you a wooden sword. “If I so much as leave a scratch on you I’m as good as dead.”
Again, he may appear snarky, but his tone is nothing short of serious. Minho is hard to read.
Wait.
Seeing past your panic, the Beast seems to answer your unspoken question.
“King Bahng is visiting the villages today, he won’t be back till the evening.”
A wave of relief grounds your bones, standing rather pathetically while Minho aids in critiquing your position, instinctively shifting into his own in front of you.
“Now, there are a lot of things to consider when dueling. I’ll narrow things down. Don’t overestimate or underestimate your opponent, trust your gut, be aware of everything, and lastly, do not be afraid to deceive.”
Promptly, he’s lashing out before you can even process his advice, wooden weapon drawn above his head as your grip tightens, attempting to block the strike only for his foot to press into your stomach, sending you falling right onto the ground instead. 
“Isn’t that unfai—“
“Like I said, deception is your greatest weapon. In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.”
He reaches a hand out for you to take, helping you back up again only to both fall back into your stances. 
“Keep in mind, your sword isn’t your only weapon.”
Minding his instruction, you continue onward, sparring heartily till the beating afternoon sun becomes too hot to bask in any longer. Amongst the four hours you had been consumed in training, you’ve snagged certain valuable points.
Calmness is crucial. Your mind streams clearer when you parried, void to the opponent’s increasing frustration—given an advantage of both agility and focus. 
Two, unpredictability is a gift. Minho is especially good at being unpredictable. 
Whether he charges headfirst or aims the forte of his sword toward particularly weak points, you begin to mimic his performance, growing closer and closer to conquering those signature tactics.
Of course, your enjoyment can only last for a bit before it spoils. 
Spoiling as in, Hwang Hyunjin’s random appearance, sauntering into the area as if he’s King himself.
“Well look at this, didn’t think I’d see our runaway and Minho here.”
There’s an air between Minho and Hyunjin, one that forbids Hyunjin from egging his superior on, just like when you were first brought to the Kingdom. Lucky for you, you could be degraded as much as he approved of.  
Feigning a dramatic gasp, he gestures to either wooden sword held in raw palms.
“No way, you’re learning how to deul?! Don’t tell me you’ve never learned basic attacks? Oh right, you never had to fight, huh, princess?”
You bite the skin of your cheek, minding your composure.
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know enough.”
Now he’s asking for it. 
“Say,” He sneers. “Let’s duel.”
Keeping Minho from intervening, you apologetically nod to his disproving expression. He knows it’s stupid, even while fetching his armor and adjusting the metal plating to your body, and you do too, but you can’t afford to back down, you won’t.
Testing your abilities carrying a legitimate sword this time, Minho grants Hyunjin a terse scowl, their own wordless agreement to tone down on anything too harmful.
Somehow, it grates your nerves further.
Straight away, he charges his right foot forward, the metal colliding with a loud ring, narrowing your body to shield your unprotected side.
Hyunjin, though skillful in his wrist mobility, clearly uses his size compared to you as an advantage, carelessly throwing around his jabs whilst relying on form alone.
You shuffle back and forth continuously, the commotion of metal rifle drawing the attention of Beasts alike throughout the castle, stopping their movements to survey.
Lurching himself forward once more, you will your legs to support you, balancing the crushing force of his pushing ascent with as much strength as possible.
“If you win, you get whatever sensible award you want,” He grits, using pure weight alone to gain higher vantage. “But if I win, you marry King Bahng.”
Suddenly, interrupting your stunned reaction to his proposal, Minho’s reminder breaches your eardrums.
Deception is your greatest weapon.
Honestly, you’re bewildered Hyunjin hadn’t played petty thus far, and you have no doubt he will any moment now. 
You can’t afford to waste the opportunity.
Maintaining your gaze targeted on his face, you steal the chance, slipping your sword right beneath his feet, hooking the guard just fast enough to cause his legs to buckle. 
The tip of your sword centimeters from his neck, you cock your brows, finding satisfaction in the glare he’s boring into your skin from his spot on the ground.
In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.
“If King Bahng wishes to marry me, he will deul me himself. That decision isn’t up to you.”
Stalling his immediate laughter upon nudging the sharp point right up against his pulse point, you chuckle.
“I might have to do this more often, you’re not bad when you shut your mouth for once.”
Dropping your sword, you reach out a customary hand he rejects, either of you following Minho to the side stalls to return his armory before a haunting voice stops you in your tracks.
“One more match?”
You’d been ignorant to the Kingdom’s sudden burst of energy, the trembling chains of the drawbridge dropping onto cobblestone ground, the gates shifting open. 
Having appeared through thin air stands King Bahng, constantly arriving at the worst of timing. 
He’s clad in traditional armor, though his has fancier plating, cleaner sheen, azure hues hidden within the gorget.
Your stomach ties itself into a knot, piecing together the details.  
“If this is about the deal, I don’t think I-“
“Oh please princess, this was never up to you. We did this for the sake of the Kingdom, you think we ever considered your say in this?” Hyunjin interjects, quickly escorted away by a frowning Minho and an additional guard you don’t recognize.
Huh?
What… What is he talking about? For the Kingdom? What does he mean for the sake of the Kingdom?
Do us all a favor and marry him, will you? Seungmin’s words ricochet in your skull, the parts assembling perfectly into place.
But if I win, you marry King Bahng.
Marriage. 
They knew all along. They knew you were set to marry him and yet, no one told you.
If your betrayal had been violently inflicted, you would look like a rag doll. All this time, these moments you thought were glee-filled, hopeful.
Lies.
Tearing the King’s chance to speak from his fingertips, you pick up your sword, denying your shaky, white knuckles and replacing those broken feelings with rage instead.
No, you can’t afford to show weakness. You must replace these feelings as quickly as possible. 
No weakness, no mercy. 
“Fine, let’s duel.”
“But-“
“Pick. Up. Your. Sword. And fight me.”
Releasing a sigh, he cautiously pulls his own sword from its sheath, waiting to be counted off unlike Hyunjin.
However skillful you’d been before had completely vanished. Though, you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt, this fight meant your future, meant the minuscule bit of freedom you’d gotten to experience here.
The last thing you wished was to realize you had been lied to, but even more so to realize you’ve been lied to in front of the entire Kingdom, curious faces peering from the castle’s allures.
Your swings sloppy, you credit the severity of the blows as you attack and defend, evidently dueling with fatal intent.
You’ve lost this battle, you know it. Your senses are too overwhelmed to assess spatial awareness, and every muscle in your arm cries out for relief. 
Swept off of your feet in a repeated cycle to earlier, you accept, sitting below the tip of King Bahng’s sword, your defeat.
Almost automatically, the pieces of pride you’d attained after your victory against Hyunjin amounted to nothing. 
You may beat everyone else, but you will never beat this man, now matter how hard you try. The odds will always soar in his favor, and you will suffer the results of it.
This is not a game you’ll win. Because from the beginning, you existed as a marionette, enjoying such naivety till the comprehension as to who controlled the play hit you.
This theatre was particularly unforgiving.
He won.
Tumblr media
If your insomnia before was grueling, this was an entirely new extreme. 
Averaging a meager two hours per night, you’re positive you’ve memorized the guest list by heart, staring blankly at the crinkled parchment, unblinking.
In a matter of days, the congratulatory ball will be held. 
You’ll be attending said ball as the bride.
Weeks ago, the guest list had simply been a past time, a mandatory errand for the King’s Advisor, a ball you weren’t aware, and wouldn’t be aware, was meant for you.
Your chest feels.. sad? Empty? 
Yes. Empty is the word. An emptiness gutting you from the inside, the ugly drawback of exhausted options and worthless optimism.
There’s a lot of things to ponder on as well, factors you have to analyze, ensure it wasn’t another stage for an audience you so foolishly performed.
No escape. 
Tuesday, two days before the ball, Jeongin drops by your door, carrying a package under his arm and that effortlessly adorable smile gracing picture-perfect features.
“This is for you, from.. um..” The anxious boy stammers, placing the binded package on your room’s veneer. 
“You can say his name, Jeongin, I’m not mad.”
He exhales audible relief, slender fingers wrapping around your hand before you can bid him farewell.
“He— The King, he’s a good person.”
You force a tight grimace, agreeing despite your contradicting expression.
Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore.
Slipping from bed once the young boy’s footsteps fade in the distance, you gingerly unwind crimson ribbon, allowing the leather exterior to unfold. 
Inside lies a gown.  
A gown that, investigating how breathtaking it is, should be considered nothing short of a ball gown the longer you stare.
Designed as a mantua, the white fabrics paired with lace neck frill and engageantes add an elegance you’ve never seen before. Light, subtle blue hides beneath ruffles of the skirt, further accented by equally blue lace strings fastening the back together and outlining the seam of your square-cut stays.
You can only marvel at the gift given by your future husband, wishing so terribly you could simply run into his arms and pretend everything was well. 
If only it was under better terms, as if nothing had happened. If King Bahng was another man, it’d be possible.
And Wednesday night, the root of your problems bares his face, knocking at your door while you were under the impression it was Han instead.
Acting as if you didn’t care was much easier around everyone but him, especially when you were halfway into tying the laces of your dress, the dress he had purchased for you.
What awful circumstances.
“Don’t touch me,” You hiss, regarding the man across from you with a frown.
Lifting either hand in the air, he seemingly invites you to figure out the impossible strings yourself, cueing a very aggravated, very futile attempt at tightening the ties of your ball gown before (hesitantly) allowing the man to slip behind you.
Of course you had to choose now to try it on.
His touch irritably careful, he ensures the fabric is snug fitting but breathable, each woven thread in its coordinating pattern.
Where he learned this you have no idea, only aware of how horrific this close proximity is, your restlessness growing unbearable.
Running his tongue over his top teeth, he backs up slightly, taking you in with apparent speechlessness.
He clears his throat.
“I won’t apologize because I know it means nothing to you, but please, let me explain. I intended to tell you, I just-“
He sounds timid, like a child.
A sour, bitter fury froths like bile in your throat. You want to explode. 
“No. No. I didn’t want this! I won’t!” You wind around, pointing an accusing finger to his chest. “You killed them all, my family, my loved ones, children. I hate you. I hate you!” Your voice breaks, a gravelly, disgusting drawl raking your throat raw. Salty, burning tears drip down your collarbones.
Grievance. An innumerable stage of sadness you hadn’t reached before now, overflowing.
As he tries calming you down, you only grow angrier, pushing from your path to the door, ripping the handle awry.
Instantly, his arms wrap around your middle, hauling you back as you kick and scream, fingernails digging into any available skin, dress puffing as your legs flail.
Catastrophic.
“No- No!”
You’re certain the entire kingdom can hear you, but that’s the last concern occupying your headspace, too focused on escaping, far off as you had done earlier, anywhere but here.
“Stop crying,” He commands, either hand on your wrist pinning your back to the bed, expression morphed pitifully. His calloused hand swipes the storming rivulets from your cheeks. 
“Please, Y/n, please stop crying. It hurts.” 
Your response shortens into a simple sob, aching.
“It hurts..?” You murmur, eyes shifting over his face. “…You hurt?”
Incessant crying causing your skin to burn, he only blinks at you.
A fit of anger forms just as fast as it disappeared in the pit of your stomach.
“You’re hurting? You’re the sick son of a bitch that killed my family and took everything I’ve ever loved away, you don’t deserve to hurt!”
Sucking in a necessary inhale, you angrily flail, wrinkling your nose at the careful tilt of his head, the distance of his face from yours, every scar, every pore close enough to see.
What happened to the King who threatened to break you? Why is he pitying you, looking at you with such kindness?
Longing to bring up how useless the deal was, how the benefits of the marriage aren’t your responsibility, you simply glare, emotions a whirlwind you can’t explain, can’t say aloud. 
And all he does is stare. Staring like you’ve said nothing at all. 
You want to cry out, want to curse him for all eternity, curse those blue eyes that seem to pave a pathway through your soul.
But you don’t. He beats you to it.
“..Do you know why my eyes are blue?”
What?
“Because I’m not fully Beast. My mother was a Mage. She turned against my father after I was born, left us, and vowed to do everything in her power to destroy Beasts.” 
Your face contorts nonsensically, his tight hold on your wrists loosening the longer he speaks.
“And I assume,” He redirects your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact. 
Rearing deja-vú reminds you of your first encounter. 
“No one ever told you Mage’s started the war.”
You scoff.  
“Or that the Mage planned to cut off all trade supply simply out of spite. And so, I did what I had to—“
“You did what you wanted to. You killed helpless people because of your own problems, my family had nothing to do with it!” Vocal cords throbbing the louder you scream, you try kicking your legs to no avail. 
“Your family, Mage, had everything to do with it. My people would have died-“
“Mine already did. So now what?”
A minuscule pinch occupies his brows.
“You weren’t supposed to be alive.”
“But I am, so you might as well let me join them.” 
He sighs, a stray, obsidian strand of hair hanging over his forehead.
“You know I can’t do that.”
You test the words on your tongue, wedging your hand out to grab his face, feeling the dip of his jaw as he sucks in a breath.
When you first met, he had told you he’d break you. This change of heart confuses you, grates more anger in your chest.
“And why is that?”
Opening his mouth, he momentarily closes it, then opens again, contemplating the statement with caution.
He’s right, in some way. 
You’re not supposed to be alive, not supposed to be saddened. You were meant to be in the ground with them, be one of the many bodies littering the L/N Kingdom, granted an eternal sleep. 
Yet, you aren’t. 
You survived, and you despise this man with every fiber of your being for that.
But things cannot change. You can’t bring them back, and his situation is just as painful as yours.��
You both lost people, or, would’ve lost people.
An explanation or an apology, as he said, isn’t necessary.
So you’ll get what you want, tangibly.
Forcefully grabbing his chin and jutting him closer to you on the bed, your voice drips with venom, noses mere breadth apart.
“Then end this winter and marry me, Your Highness.”
For a split second you swear his gaze drifts to your lips, but you shake the thought away, his sharp canines glinting off the mirrors reflection. 
“Aren’t I supposed to be the one to propose?”
“You killed my family, no need for formalities.”
Tumblr media
“Care to remind me why you agreed to marry him? Weren’t you planning to kill him?” Felix piques, apron woven around his thin waist, skillfully measuring flour that’s dusted over his nose.
You needed to get your anger out, then devise a plan. Show King Bahng you weren’t going to succumb to his charms, tricks. Ever.
You hum from your spot on the counter, conversing just as you’d done back in your kingdom with Ms. Maewether. 
Technically, he was your new Ms. Maewether.
“Oh no, I still plan on killing him, I just want something first.”
Except, you didn’t talk about murder in front of Ms. Maewether. That was new.
He raises an eyebrow.
“And what would that be?”
Snapping your fingers, you cheerily tap your heels against the cabinets below.
“I want to see spring again.”
Silence overcoming the kitchen, it takes Felix a full minute to understand your preposition before bursting into unadulterated laughter. Well, until he realizes. Then he pouts.
“Aw, I was really looking forward to seeing Chris rejected at the altar.” The smaller Beast whines, popping a piece of sugary sweet dough his mouth and handing another to you.
“Hey, now that’s just cruel,” You mumble, muffled by the delicacy you’re currently chewing on.
“According to you yesterday, not really.”
Ah. Right.
“We just… have a lot to talk about.”
The phrase sounds stupid, but it’s true. Logically, emotionally it’s true. There is a lot in need of discussing.
For now, you’re indifferent.
“I’ve always thought you two were similar.”
The cook’s outburst catches you off guard.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve always wanted to protect what mattered to you most, and maybe, one day, you can understand why he did what he did.”
Leave it to Felix to be your reasonable opinion.
Nevertheless, an invisible barrier rests between you two. A lie. His lie. The Kingdom’s lie.
“Felix, I will never understand why he did it,” You humorlessly chuckle, hopping from your spot. “So tell me, why did you lie?”
All morning you debated the right time to confront him. Tonight was the night, the congratulatory ball, the wedding. Why wait? 
Freezing with his back turned to you, he stops mid-slice, dropping the knife atop the cutting board and gradually facing you. 
Oh Felix.
His nose flushed pink, lips quivering, you allow him to race forward and hug you, head tucked into your shoulder while you stand there, motionless.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It was decided from the start, but we were told not to tell you, not until King Bahng told you himself.”
You want to tell him it’s okay, make some jokes, act like things are normal. Though your arms stay glued to your side.
“I guess Hyunjin beat him to it, huh?” 
His arms tighten around you and, with a sigh, you pat his back, gently nudging him off of you where you can hold that sweet face of his.
“But don’t worry about me, alright? I can handle this, and I forgive you, so let’s move on from this, Lix.” Tenderly rubbing the skin of his cheek, he meekly smiles, an action you can’t help but feel relieved seeing.
You’re strong. You have to be strong. For Felix, for Han, for Jeongin, for your friends throughout the Beast Clan, you’ll be strong. You’ll enjoy wearing the gown regardless of who bought it for you, cherish the wedding no matter the man you’re wedded to.
If you’re going to have to live like this forever, you might as well make the most of it.
On today’s occasion, you’re dressed by a hand maid sent to your quarters, polished and puffed to perfection by the time five o’clock arrives and the banquet officially begins.
And when you see yourself in the mirror, you’re not exactly sure who stares back at you. 
She’s pretty, yes, but she isn’t Y/N. She’s a Queen, the Queen of the Beast Clan.
Your stomach wrenches.
By tomorrow, you’ll be married. Married to King Bahng. You will be a wife, the wife of a King just as the L/N Kingdom intended. 
The thought continues to plague your mind, sucking more and more oxygen from your lungs that as you’re escorted to the ball room.
You can hardly inhale and exhale normally as Changbin, whom you appreciate enormously, walks you down the aisle, past an abundance of people you’ve never seen before. Beasts, business men, acquaintances alike.
Sensing your panic, your linked arms allow him to spare you a meager glance you anxiously return.
It’s fine. It’ll be fine. 
All previous calmness long dissipated, when you finally redirect your attention from your feet and take in King Bahng waiting at the altar, your rampaging anxiousness increases tenfold.
As the audience claps and either of you turn with your backs facing the crowd, you scorn your lack of a poker face when the King rests a hand on your back.
“Breathe,” He utters, only a whisper you heard. 
Wishing to thank him, you bite your tongue, considering the man you’re referring to in the first place prior to replying.
A sharp nod of your head is enough.
Stifling an exhale, you spin on your heel, both bowing to the public before facing each other and holding hands, an action that shouldn’t cause goosebumps to swarm your arms, but does anyway.
“You plan to smash my face in at our wedding?” He murmurs below the customary vows, acknowledging your fingernails digging into his hand.
“Keep giving me ideas and I migh-“
The retort vanishes when he presses his lips to yours, doubling back in shock before his palm on your back keeps you close.
Granting you breathing room if only for an instant, a slow grin tugs at the edge of his lips. 
“Then before I die, let me have this first.”
And he dives right back in again, kiss surprisingly tender compared to what you’d expected. Something bruising, dominating.
Instead, the King was soft. Soft as he held your cheek in a hand, soft when pulling you in by the waist.
Separating if only for a fraction of a second, you reach to hold his face, every instinct beckoning you to push him away dissipating into nothing but the nullified drone of your head and the insistent racing of your heartbeat.
“Are you that nervous, pretty? Your heart is-“
You pull him to your lips once more, hating how easy it is to forget, how his lips numb your thoughts—though unable to get enough.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
The guests hollering in your peripheral the lone sound breaching your eardrums, you can’t help thinking. 
He did this for his people just as you would’ve done. As for the Mage instigating the war, some secrets shall remain hidden, unable to be answered. You have to accept that among many things. 
The King has done nothing but care for you, and as much as you resent him for it, you respect him, if only a tiny bit, as well.
He’s irritable, and not to mention annoyingly handsome. His sympathy-filled eyes might be the death of you, and those dimples of his are stupidly lovable.
But he’s your husband, and somehow, strangely enough, you don’t find yourself hating the thought as much anymore.
Not when he holds you, and especially not when he kisses you as if it’s your last.
Tumblr media
After the many hours spent celebrating, you couldn’t have been more enthusiastic about returning to your quarters.
Joined by King Bahng, you find traversing as easy as ever with the help of the (half) Beast behind you, helping navigate past multitudes of people, oddly comforting touch on your back guiding you through the hallways.  
Arriving at your room, he pauses, awkwardly shifting his weight on his heels, bewitching gaze flitting left and right, uncharacteristic to his usually smug attitude.
“…Was the kiss too much?”
King Bahng, asking if his kiss was too much?
You wanted to photograph this moment in your mind forever, debating on whether you should tease him about it, egg the normally stoic King on. 
However, you tip his chin down, pressing a chaste, soft peck to his lips, amusedly observing him freeze before melting into your touch.
“Could be better.” 
He huffs a sigh in response, and you’re left wondering if this is the same man who threatened to break you, the one who now looks like a pouty toddler.
Although, just as you slip by, he takes ahold of your wrist. 
“Goodnight Y/N.”
You crack a smile.
“Good night Chris.”
And, suppressing your chuckle, you close the door behind you.
Hastily undressing into nightwear and slipping into bed, you stare up at the ceiling, hours passing from the ticking of a clock in the corner, echoing around the room. 
Then, abruptly, your door creaks open.
“My gods, what are you doing here?” You whisper into the darkness, the door creaking behind his crouched form, King Bahng’s crouched form.
“I needed to see you.”
Ah. Don’t say things like that. 
Pulling the covers further over yourself, you squint accusingly at the man as he enters, silencing your urge to reprimand he saw you mere hours earlier, presumptuously sitting opposite to you. 
He scans what’s visible, fixating on your hand for a moment.
“You kept the ring on?”
Noting the gleaming jewel on your ring finger, you can’t help but feel slightly bashful. It’s not like you’re really married, but the thought sends a sort of satisfaction spreading throughout your chest. 
“If I take it off, will it become winter again?”
He grins, giggling childishly. 
“Is that the only reason?”
Debating on your response, you wet your lips, looking back up at his barely distinguishable face shrouded in darkness.
You have no doubt he’s thriving off your hesitance. 
Oh how badly you wish to wipe that look clean, but in reality, keeping the ring on feels as if a part of you from your own kingdom is with you, similar to your old clothing.
The part of you that, if not invaded, would belong to someone loved, newly wedded.
“No,” You mutter, though the phrase is barely audible.
He perks up.
“Hm?”
You regret saying that. But he’s already heard, there’s no use lying aimlessly.
“I said no, that’s not the only reason.”
“Care to tell me the other reason?” 
Rapidly averting your attention to your hand, you discover speaking is easier when not looking at him. 
“Keeping it on makes me feel like I’m really in love. I like imagining that, being married.”
You miss the sad lilt crossing his face.
“We are married.”
Without missing a beat, you meet his stare.
“Are we?” 
Unlike before, there’s no waver to your voice, no caution. 
Winding around to your side of the bed, he settles beside your feet. 
You clear your throat.
“I wanted to see spring again, and to you, I’m simply a present. A playtoy to your disposal. This isn’t marriage, not how I was taught, this is just a business arrangement.”
Nevertheless, the hurt leaks into your voice. So long to a resilient tone. 
“Y/N, don’t do this to me.”
Come to think of it, it’s the first time he’s ever called you by your name apart from last night. 
Having had enough of his nonsense, you spring for his collar, dragging him below you on the bed. Opposite to earlier, you’re on top this time, you’re in control.
“You don’t deny it.”
A silence passes.
“I would deny it a thousand times, but you wouldn’t believe me. And I don’t blame you for that.” 
He sucks in a breath.
“I only ask you don’t doubt this marriage. This isn’t a business arrangement, and I will treat you with as much respect and love as possible, even if you don’t want me too. That is what marriage is, how I was taught.”
It’s your turn to inhale, lost within the confines of this dark space. 
“Chris, do you love me?”
You both have people you love, people you want to protect, wanted to protect. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you, not when he found you after you ran away, not when ordering a salve to keep you safe, nor now, as you lean above him. 
Like he told you. You weren’t meant to survive. You were supposed to be peacefully asleep, forever. 
This man, this Mage, this Beast, is as much a murderer as your savior. You choose how to condemn him. 
“I do, more than you could ever imagine.”
How can you stay mad at a guilty man, a man who kept you alive when you were on the brink of death? Who now professes to loving you, wanting to give you a marriage you’d been cheated of, give you everything you’ve been cheated of with everything in his power. 
Hovering right by his lips to the point your chests touch, you place a miniature kiss there.
“I hate you, so much.” 
Then another kiss.
His arms, wrapped around your more elevated form, drag you down in an embrace. One hand presses your face to his shoulder, another rubbing circles on your back. 
“And I’m so sorry, I’m so, so, sorry.”
Raising up, you can’t contain the tremor of your lip, the way your eyes shakily close shut as you steal a third kiss from his lips, a kiss he returns, hands carefully holding each side of your face.
“Chris?” You manage, currently straddling his lap, his body resting against the headboard. 
Kindly, he keeps a palm against your lower back, helping you balance.
“Can you show me what it means to be loved?”
You never understood how a person could melt until this moment. He wears that look again, like in the forest. The look that makes you cry.
What love looks like for Christopher Bahng, you don’t know. You have no doubt there will be ugly moments, moments you’ll reconsider, rethink. 
You’re both hurt, some wounds still hurting. But for him, for you, you’re willing to take that chance.
“I’d be honored.”
Tumblr media
FIC TAGLIST. @stayceebs97 @duhgirl @yourgirljanvi @readr1221 @spearbinnie0327 @hyunjinsartpeice @cheesytangerine @palindrome969 @luminouskalopsia @kiaralynn3838 @chrizztopher97 @starlost-andfound @weeping-angel-in-the-tard1s @zaggprincess2
sunboki, may 2022 ©
503 notes · View notes
charmandabear · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Office Hours - Chapter One
Summary:
Your colleague Dr. Ancunin is a smug condescending bastard and you can't stand him. But you also can't get him out of your head.
Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no breeding kink, masturbation, vaginal fingering, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, like the briefest mention of suicide while talking about Hamlet
This would not exist without @zipzoomzaria's gorgeous glasses screenshots because PROFESSOR, PLS. Go follow her bc her edits are out of this world. The masturbation scene is also heavily inspired by @astarionfreak's "Are You Satisfied, Darling?" If you haven't read it what are you doing???
Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist
There’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. It could be his arrogance, or the condescending way he peers over his glasses at you and your other colleagues. It might be the overpriced cashmere turtlenecks that hug his figure perfectly or the stupid silver earrings adorning his stupid elf ears. But every time he opens his pretty little mouth you feel a snarl growing deep in your throat.
This is the first university you’ve worked at where the theatre and English departments shared an office. Theatre and music, sure, even theatre and dance. But theatre and English? It feels insulting, honestly. English PhDs are some of the snobbiest people you’ve ever met, and they always speak to you like a child. Is it because they’re unimpressed by your MFA, like it made you less deserving of your position? Who knows. But Astarion Ancunin is no different.
“Grace, would you mind making twelve copies of pages 219-254 when you get a chance?” You hand the administrative assistant the heavy book. “You can leave them in my mailbox, I’ll pick them up later.” Grace opens the book to the instructed page.
“Oh, Much Ado About Nothing! I love that one!” she squeals with delight. “That Beatrice and Benedick,” she sighs, stroking the Complete Works lovingly. You smile at her cordially.
“They’re great, they’re basically the non-problematic version of Kate and Petruchio,” you respond in agreement.
“How tragic that Taming’s writing is better.”
You whirl around to see Ancunin walking in looking at something on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as he inserts himself into your conversation. You glare at his interruption. He looks up at Grace, bypassing you completely.
“Good morning, Grace darling, how are you today?” He sweeps over to her and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. Gods he’s fucking insufferable. Not to mention unprofessional. Grace, however, blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl.
“I’m doing well, Dr. Ancunin, and yourself?” The tiefling’s voice jumps up about three pitches and her tail starts swishing excitedly.
“Leagues better now that I’ve been blessed with your presence,” he coos at her, voice positively saccharine. It takes every ounce of your patience to keep from rolling your eyes. He casts his gaze to you, and even you need to turn away from those piercing red eyes.
“Good morning, professor. Starting Much Ado with your students, I take it?” he asks with a light smile that makes you bristle.
“Yes, it’s a great way for them to practice switching between verse and prose,” you respond coolly, more than a little defensive.
“Of course, one of his best.” He glances down at the volume still in Grace’s hands and his eyebrows raise, peering over the top of his round glasses. “Going with the Bevington, hmm? Interesting. I’m more of a Norton man, myself.” He runs a slender finger along the binding as you grit your teeth. Is he really patronizing you over your choice of edition of Shakespeare’s Complete Works? Of course, he’s an English scholar.
“The Norton is a great tool dramaturgically, but the Bevington is a much better resource for actors, so, yes.” Your voice is steady but there’s an undeniable venom in it. Can he tell how much he’s bothering you? Probably, he’s almost certainly getting enjoyment out of riling you up. His little smirk would seem to suggest it, at least.
“Well certainly, and who knows acting resources better than our resident classical acting expert?” he intones, voice still dripping with honey. You narrow your eyes at him, unsure if he’s taking another jab at your degree.
“Well, as much as I enjoy standing around and debating the merit of various editions of the Complete Works, I’m about to be late for a meeting. Grace, thank you so much, I’ll be back later to pick up those copies. Dr. Ancunin,” you turn to his smug face and he looks back at you innocently. “A pleasure, as always.” You grab your papers and leave the office, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into the back of your head as you leave.
***
“Yes, Thaniel, come on in, have a seat,” you call out to the freshman loitering in the hallway outside your office. He comes in and drops his overfull backpack next to the teal club chair across from your desk. You close your laptop and smile at him warmly.
“So, Hamlet, that’s ambitious! I think it’s a good choice for you, but it’ll be a lot of work,” you say, glancing at your own copy of the monologue.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” Thaniel says nervously. “I’m fine with the scansion and stuff, that I get, but I still don’t get the actual words. And I know you said how important that is.”
“For sure, I can guarantee all of the bad Shakespeare you’ve seen has been because the actors had no idea what they were saying. Have you used the Lexicon?” Thaniel looks off to the side, embarrassed.
“No, I don’t really get how that works either,” he says, an air of chagrin creeping into his voice.
“No worries, it takes practice. Here, we’ll do a few lines together. So first off, to be or not to be, that’s fairly obvious, right?”
“Yeah, he’s talking about suicide, right?”
“Sure, but what is he actually saying about it? To take arms against a sea of troubles/And by opposing, end them. What’s ‘them’ referring to?”
“The sea of troubles?”
“Right, the aforementioned slings and arrows. So even though you might know what those words mean individually, look them up in the Lexicon to see if they have a different context here. But you’re right, he’s trying to figure out if it’s better to suffer through the shittiness of existence or to take your fate into your own hands and, well, end them.” You highlight the line and lean over your desk to show Thaniel. A voice pipes up from the doorway.
“That’s not exactly what he’s saying, you know.”
The paper crumples in your hand slightly as your fist instinctively tightens. You plaster a strained smile on your face and look up at him.
“Dr. Ancunin, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Care to elaborate?”
He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, face in shadows. Your office is unusually dark because of the storm outside, and so the bright fluorescents in the hallway give him an almost ethereal halo effect
“It’s a common misconception that Hamlet is contemplating suicide here. Life and death, sure, but ‘to take arms’ isn’t metaphorical, it’s literal. He’s contemplating dying as a result of killing Claudius, not taking his own life,” he says, almost sounding bored. You stand abruptly, your office chair skidding backwards.
“How can that possibly be true? He says ‘to take arms against a sea of troubles.’ He’s using the active voice, deciding whether or not to continue his life or end it. To be or not to be. It’s the first line in the monologue. He’s not talking about the consequences of killing Claudius.” You try to keep your voice from shaking. You know that you don't sound nearly as eloquent as him, and it’s pissing you off. He shrugs nonchalantly.
“You’re oversimplifying it, it’s exceedingly more complicated than that. The whole soliloquy is filled with war imagery. He’s at war with himself, the part of him that wants to kill Claudius and the part of him that is afraid to die.” He pushes himself off the door frame and steps back into the hallway. “But apologies, please don’t let me interrupt your instruction.” And like that he was off, leaving you to stew in silence. Thaniel looks up at you and looks back at the doorway where he stood.
“Should I…” he starts, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.
“Dr. Ancunin comes at this from a very different angle as an English academic. He’s more interested in the words on the page, rather than how they translate to the stage. But,” you sigh, loathe to give him any credit, “it’s a valid interpretation. We can go down that route, if you want, or we can look at it through this lens.” Thaniel chews his lip while he considers his options.
“I think what you said makes more sense, the suicide bit,” he finally decides. You nod and pull out your copies of the Shakespeare Lexicon.
“Great, let’s go over how to use the Lexicon again,” you say as you flip through the book, looking for the entry for ‘slings.’
***
You drop off your bag and toss your keys into a bowl on the counter. Fucking exhausting day. You unzip your boots and kick them vaguely in the direction of the shoe rack, stretching and curling your toes for relief. You hang up your wet coat and shake rain from your hair. Your eyes dart between the refrigerator, wherein resides a bottle of white wine, and the bathroom door, contemplating how good a hot bath would feel. Both? Both is good.
You pour yourself a generous glass of Riesling and strip your clothes on your way to the bathroom. One of the perks of living alone. Sitting naked on the edge of the tub, you sip your wine as the bath fills.
Fucking Ancunin.
You’re a little shocked at how much he got under your skin today. Normally you don’t think twice about him, excepting the few times you have the misfortune of passing him in the hallway. But today the fates decided to throw you together and your schedules aligned. Well, in your defense, you didn’t seek him out that second time, he was the one who decided to crash your office hours.
You don’t even like Hamlet that much. You certainly don’t care about alternative interpretations of “To be or not to be.” But you’re mostly annoyed because he had a fair point. His read makes Hamlet a more interesting character rather than a cowardly incel romanticizing suicide.
You slide into the bath, hissing slightly as the hot water flows over your chilled skin. Without prompting, Ancunin worms his way back into your thoughts. Hmmph. You take a gulp of wine to try to wash away the taste of the unpleasant image.
Well… not entirely unpleasant. He’s a good looking man, you’d be a fool to deny it. But gods he’s so smug. And interrupting your meeting with Thaniel was wildly inappropriate. Leaning your head against the edge of the tub, you try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You’re not about to let him interrupt you again, and when he’s not even present, no less.
But there he is, in your mind, crimson eyes looking over the top of those metal frame glasses that you’re, like, 99% sure he doesn’t actually need to see. You take another swig of wine to drown his stupid face. With his stupid cheekbones. And his dumb fucking earrings that you want to bite.
Nine hells, what is happening? You’ve been drinking your wine quickly and aren’t thinking straight. You grab your phone and open Spotify, letting your daily mix play through the bluetooth speaker on the counter.
Now Playing: Hatefuck by The Bravery.
If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?
If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?
By Mystra’s fucking grace, seriously? You growl at the growing heat between your legs. Between putting off dinner and chugging your wine, your head is swimming. You might be better off getting it out of your system.
The wine glass hits the tub edge with a clank as you angrily put it down and sink into the water up to your chin. You are satiating a purely physical need, nothing else.
You still shiver as you slip your hand between your legs, lightly running your finger up your slit. You can see his face, looking down on you through those glasses - those infuriating glasses - and your lips flutter. What does he look like under those sweaters? He’s so thin, but his clothes fit incredibly well. It’s not hard to imagine a sculpted body beneath. You spread your legs further and let the warm water tickle your folds.
His silvery curls would look so good between your legs, slender fingers wrapped around your thighs while he laps you up. At least then he’d shut up. A gentle moan escapes your lips as you run your finger along your inner lips, pretending it’s him. You could grab hold of those perfect locks, yanking on them to control where he can go, fucking his face.
You move your other hand up to your breast and start teasing your nipple, feeling his lips around it. You give it a little tug and groan, just like if he nipped at it.
You imagine sitting on his pretty face, pointed ears flushed and hair a mess. Your hips buck into your hand as they might on top of him and your toes curl. You make gentle circles around your clit, thinking of all the other uses for his silver tongue. You whine and squirm at the sensations of heat radiating through your body. You slip a finger inside and hiss as you can see his pale digits entering you in your mind’s eye. You curl it upwards and gasp, his imaginary eyes looking up at you through those long lashes and a smirk playing across his imaginary lips.
“Are you ready for more of me, darling?” You can hear him murmur into your ear.
“Yes, gods yes,” you reply breathlessly into the cold bathroom air. You slide another finger in and feel that delicious stretch. The ghost of him moans, coming undone at the sight of you. You could leave him speechless, for once.
You reach over the edge of the tub and grab the box of waterproof toys. You frantically sift through your collection of dildos, trying to find the right one. Here. It’s long and svelte like the rest of him, but bright shimmery purple. You suction it to the bottom of the tub and hover above it on your knees. It sways lightly in the water, tip of it teasing your pussy just like you’d love to do to him.
Gods, to see him beg for your cunt. To see him reduced to a babbling mess, pleading to let him inside you. Your breath quickens at the mental image of him pulling on his own hair waiting for you to satisfy him. You sink down onto the dildo and your groan of pleasure mirrors what you’d like to hear from him.
You start sliding yourself on the purple dick, feeling its ridges glide against the walls of your cunt as you continue to finger your clit. You imagine your hand splayed across his chest, your black nails standing in contrast against his pale skin. You claw at the bottom of the tub as you increase your pace, desperate to see the pink raised skin that your nails leave behind. The fingers on your clit speed up as well, and you can feel yourself getting close.
“Oh gods, Astarion, don’t stop,” the words tumble from your mouth unbidden. You will absolutely hate yourself for that later, but right now all that matters is your ecstasy. You bounce atop the dildo, disregarding the water that splashes over the side of the tub as you chase your finish. Your moans increase in pitch and fervor as the various images of him in all sorts of positions flash through your mind. Between your thighs, sitting on his face, riding his dick, even fucking pegging him from behind because why the hell not?
“Astarion!” You cry out his name as you crash over the edge, legs shaking and pussy pulsing. Your orgasm reverberates throughout your whole body as you ride it out. Eventually, your movement slows and the water gently sways around you. You look down at your hand, milky juices swirling in the now tepid tub water.
Shit.
***
The next day at work, you avoid him like the plague. You keep your office door closed, usually an unthinkable act but entirely necessary right now. You double check the hallway before leaving to go teach, and then after class you immediately duck back into your office and close the door again. You even avoid the main office for fear of running into him there.
You can’t look at his face right now. You can’t possibly look him in the eye.
When 5:00 rolls around, you glance out into the hallway. Most of the other professors are leaving. To play it safe, you decide to work until 6 so that you can be sure that he’s gone when you leave. You absentmindedly grade performance responses. After you’ve read one paragraph about Miss Julie maybe a half dozen times, you realize that it’s probably time to go.
You slowly open the door and glance out into the hallway. You can’t tell from this angle if his door is open or not. You grab your bag and coat, take a deep breath, and make a beeline for the stairs. As you approach his office you realize it’s open.
Fuck.
It’s fine. You’ll just walk past it and get to the parking lot and then you won’t need to worry about it. He might not even be in there. Or if he is, he probably has his head down and won’t notice you walk by. It’s fine. You’ve got this.
“Oh, professor, a word?” His voice floats into the hallway right as you’re passing his door. Are you fucking kidding? You turn to see him sitting at his desk, head down, writing something. He doesn’t even look up at you. Prick.
“Yes?” you ask, not budging from your spot in the hall. He glances up at you over his glasses. Those fucking glasses. You want to rip them off his face and throw them out the window.
“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” His voice is low and cool. Does he fucking know? There’s no way he can know.
Right?
You tentatively take a step into his office. It’s surprisingly cluttered for a man who always looks so put together, but it’s still warm and inviting. You can barely see the walls for being covered corner to corner in bookshelves full to bursting. He’s got a big mahogany desk in the middle of the room - significantly nicer than the university-issued one. It’s covered in stacks of papers, books, weird little knick knacks; it’s amazing how he’s able to get anything done on it. There are two chairs facing his desk, much like yours, but a rich plush velvet instead of a scratchy cotton weave. He’s got a scent diffuser somewhere, giving the room an aroma like an earthy spiced tea.
“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the cushy red chairs across from him. You stand there, clutching your bag, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. When he realizes you’re not going to sit, he gets up and crosses over to the door.
“Do you mind if I close this? It’s… a bit embarrassing,” he asks with a crooked smile. You can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. Your mouth goes dry and you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.
There’s no way he knows.
Right?
But something compels you to nod, so he closes the door and walks back to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, he leans back casually on the front of it. He’s taken off the blazer he usually wears and is down to just the turtleneck, sleeves pushed up just below his elbows. He crosses his arms in front of his chest as you stare, waiting.
“I wanted to… apologize. For yesterday.”
You blink at him, the conversation not going in the direction you expected. You had been so focused on yourself, that it took you a moment to realize what he was referring to.
“It was inappropriate to barge in on your meeting with your student. You were mid-instruction, and I needn’t have inserted myself into your conversation.” He leaned back on his hands, stretching out his lean figure to impossible proportions. The grip on your bag slackened and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze over the length of his body. He looks at you quizzically.
“I get the sense that you don’t very much like me,” he muses.
Now it’s his turn to give you the once-over, and you feel practically naked before him the way he looks at you. “Then again,” he adds, and pushes himself off his desk. He slowly advances toward you, though whether like someone approaching a vicious beast or a predator stalking its prey, it’s unclear. You retreat while holding his gaze until your back is flush against the door.
No escape now.
He gets precariously close to you and takes an unsettling whiff. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky growl.
“I think it’s entirely possible you like me… quite a bit.” He’s got at least a half foot on you, and he looks down on you with heavy-lidded eyes. The heat in your face has fully reached the tips of your ears now, and your breath comes out ragged.
“I’m sure I-” you start, but it comes out thick and raspy. You clear your throat and try again. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” you finally manage with all of the composure you can muster. He cocks an eyebrow at you, then slowly takes off those infuriating glasses.
“No? Then perhaps I’m mistaken, and your heart rate hasn’t increased by approximately 20 beats per second in the past few minutes.” His eyes continue boring into you. “And maybe that smell between your legs is completely unrelated.”
An undignified splutter comes out of you as you press your thighs closer together. He takes a half step back to let you respond.
“If I am indeed mistaken, then I’ve said my peace and you’re free to go.” The seductive honey is gone from his voice, and in its place is a politely professional tone. You fully feel that he’s giving you an out, that you can both laugh on this as an embarrassing moment and neither will bring it up ever again.
But on the other hand…
“You’re not mistaken,” you choke out in a whisper. The lazy smile is back and he lifts your chin with his index finger.
“What was that? Speak up.” His command weakens your knees and you wither under his gaze.
“You’re not wrong,” you say more boldly, trying to meet his energy. His smile broadens, and for the first time you notice two pointy fangs slip out beneath his upper lip.
Fucking
vampire??
That explains how he could track your heartbeat, and even more his ridiculously keen sense of smell. Doesn’t make it any less humiliating.
“No, I don’t suppose I am,” he snarls and suddenly he’s kissing you roughly, hands twisting in your hair and one knee sliding up between your legs. He pushes you against the door and lifts you off your feet slightly. You’re desperate just to keep up as he devours you, hands weakly grasping at his hips, shoulders, neck. But he’s fully in control of the kiss, and after a moment you let him take you.
He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away, and you’re both breathing heavily, air cycling between your lungs. Your head feels full of a thick fog and you can’t fully see straight. His hands are still in your hair, tight but not pulling - yet. You get the sense that might not last long.
He drops to his knees and you nearly double over from the sudden lack of support. He runs his nose and lips across the hem of your black denim skirt, inhaling again. Your fingers lace into his hair, but not even remotely in the dominant way from your fantasy. At this point you’re just trying not to collapse.
He looks up at you, flashing another fang-bearing grin. His hand slips up your skirt and his thumb runs across your pussy, barricaded by your sheer tights and panties.
“Darling, you’re positively soaked,” he hums contentedly. “You’d have a hard time hiding this from anyone.” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the needy whines at bay. But when he fiercely rips the crotch of your tights and presses the flat of his tongue against the drenched gusset, you can’t stop the cry from escaping your throat. He sucks lasciviously, the debauched slurping noise ringing in your ears. Your knees buckle and he grabs hold of your hips, hiking your skirt up to your waist to get better access to your dripping cunt.
He stands and kisses you again, the taste of you lingering on
his lips. He grabs your ass and digs his fingers into your flesh, spreading them until you gasp into his kiss. In one fluid motion he sweeps up your legs and wraps them around his waist, carrying you over to that incredible mahogany desk.
He plops you down on the hardwood and you hear books and papers tumbling onto the floor behind you. He presses his bulge into your mound, this time the sound of both of your moans mingling pleasingly. He tears at your chiffon button down, trailing hungry kisses down your chest as you throw your head back in pleasure. He makes quick work of fully removing your top, though you’re certain he sacrificed some buttons in the process. You hardly care as you paw wantonly at the back of his neck, desperate for him to get his lips onto every single inch of you. He pulls the lace cup of your bra down with his teeth and starts sucking on your nipple, pressing his hand into the small of your back. You arch into him, his hands working you like a soft clay.
So much for the pleading mess that you pictured last night. Instead, you’re the one who's been reduced to shambles, begging for satisfaction.
“Puh-please,” you stutter, and those devilish eyes lock onto yours again. He snakes his way back up your chest and bites your lower lip.
“Puh-please what?” he mocks your stammering, but makes up for it when he rolls his hips forward, dragging that delicious hardness against you. You squirm, trying to pull him closer but he’s got your arms locked in his grip. His lips leave yours and ghost over the flesh of your neck. He very gently scrapes his fangs across your jugular, eliciting a ghoulish moan from you in return. By all the gods, you hadn’t even considered that as a part of it. His movement made it clear that he won’t bite unless you want him to.
But holy hells do you want him to.
“Gods Astarion,” you gasp, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch at the sound of his own name. “Fuck me then bite me, or the other way around I don’t care, but please get in me!” The string of words almost sounds foreign to your own ears, but you’re well beyond the point of trying to sound clever. In an instant, he’s undone his belt buckle and his erection springs forth, bouncing and already dripping precum. He roughly shoves your panties to the side and sinks his cock and teeth into you simultaneously, drawing out your cry of both pain and pleasure. You wrap your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him in deeper. You can feel his mouth filling up with your hot blood just as your cunt fills up with his dick.
You’re panting as you grow more lightheaded, clinging to his neck. Unthinkingly, your fingers stroke his ears, playing with those tiny silver hoops. He lurches and pulls away from your neck, looking absolutely feral with your blood dripping down his chin, which only sets you off more. You angle your hips toward him, trying to get him to start thrusting into you. He pushes your back down onto the desk and hooks his elbows beneath your knee high boots. Then he starts pounding into you properly, and you feel like you’re close to losing it. You grab onto the edge of the desk as he revs up his pace, his cock stretching you out as he keeps your legs close to your ears. You can feel the heat mounting in your core and you know it won’t be long before you come. But at this point you’re just trying to hold on for dear life.
“Fuck, gods, Astarion, I’m-” You finish before your sentence does. He doesn’t relent as the orgasm wracks your body, if anything, he fucks you harder. Just as you’ve barely come down off your climax, he pulls out and yanks you off the desk, spins you around and pushes your face down into the smooth mahogany, warmed from where you had just been. He enters you again, this time from behind, and already you’re working your way up to a second one. Your bare tits squish against the polished surface and he grabs your hair, pulling your head up and arching your back into him.
For the first time you notice the mirror on the opposite wall across from his desk. But rather than both of you, you only see yourself, disheveled and well-fucked, lips swollen from his abuse. Your hair is pulled up by an invisible force behind you. Another unexpected aspect of vampire fucking.
You desperately wish you could see his face because you can feel his thrusts getting more uneven and erratic. You try to turn to get a glimpse of him, but his grip on your hair remains tight. But even if you can’t see him, you can hear him, his grunts and the low string of incoherent swears pouring out of his mouth. The sound of him getting lost in you is enough, and your own moans start building and mixing with his, an utter symphony of epicurism.
His hips give a few more broken thrusts and you can feel his climax, setting off yours. The throbs of his cock match those wracking your cunt, and you hold onto the edge of the desk as the waves wash over you. Once they’ve come to an end he pulls out, and you can feel his semen dripping out of the sudden emptiness and running down your leg. You quietly say a thankful prayer for your IUD.
You’re both panting as he collapses onto your back, planting a half-hearted kiss on your spine. You weakly push yourself up off the desk and see the devastation of papers, smears and fluids. You turn yourself around and relish in his appearance. Your blood is splattered on his fine cream sweater, his usually perfectly coiffed curls damp and sticking to his forehead. You reach up and wipe the remainder of your blood off his chin. He smirks and kisses you, significantly more gently this time.
“That was good,” you murmur through steadying breaths, “but next time, keep the fucking glasses on.”
535 notes · View notes
arysbruv · 3 months
Text
Are we still friends?
Tumblr media
You were a relatively newer student. You normally kept to yourself but you always dreamt of being friends with the main trio, especially with the infamous Suguru Geto. Yet, he always seemed to hate you, even when you openly showed you felt the opposite.
pairings: suguru geto x f!reader
warnings and whatnots: enemies to lovers, mean!geto, reader gets hurt (mentally). modern-ish au. Not based on canon. cliffhanger (will probably become a series)
chapter 1: [currently reading] chapter 2: can we be friends? chapter 3: sorry, not sorry chapter 4: green looks good on you. chapter 5: runaway chapter 6: burn.
You walk inside the loud classroom, for a class that’s only filled with three students, it was unusually loud, mostly because of the inhabitants of the classroom.
You quietly take a seat next to Shoko, who smiles at you nicely. You smile back. She continues on talking to Gojo and Geto. You keep to yourself. Although they claimed to be your friends, you couldn’t help but feel isolated from them. When they hung out, they always ‘forgot’ to invite you. When they talk, they never include you in their conversations. Thus, you’ve stopped trying and became an idle listener.
You start to zone out, your eyes wandering around until they finally land on a familiar and beautiful specimen of a man.
Suguru Geto.
You managed to steal a few glances before his cold gaze finally meets yours. He gives you a glare, narrowing his eyes at you. You quickly look away, flushed and embarrassed.
Shoko and Satoru laugh as they notice this. As per usual, they make light of it and start accusing you of liking Suguru and how you would be good for each other.
“Don’t be ridiculous! She’s not my type!” He says, his voice laced with annoyance and disgust.
You purse your lips, hearing those words drawl out of his mouth.
Satoru and Shoko weren’t entirely wrong. You did, stupidly have a crush on him. It was obvious from your first day that you were head over heels for the long-haired man. You saw him and you immediately felt a rush of emotions hit you. You could still remember it to this day. You could remember how he quickly and painfully rejected you.
~
You shook slightly as you entered the classroom, giving an awkward smile to the three people in the class. You meet the gaze of one of the boys there. He looked at you curiously, giving you a light smile, though his eyes didn’t show any emotion. You felt a rush of heat to your face as emotions came barrelling down on you. You quickly introduced yourself before learning the names of everyone there. Naturally, you plopped yourself down next to the boy who made you get butterflies in your stomach.
For the next few days, you walked with him as you became closer with the other members of your class. They all talked and laughed with you, accepting you into their friend group. Yet, he never talked. You tried to get him to talk. You did everything! Giving him chocolates, making dumb jokes, asking him for help, walking back with him, accompanying him, helping him but it never worked!
It was lunchtime.
You scanned the area for him, and you saw him sitting alone near the pond. You psych yourself up before walking towards him.
“Boo!” You say, teasingly as you sat down next to him. He didn’t react, keeping quiet as he looked at you oddly. You smiled as he didn’t react to you. You open your bento and look into his.
“So… Suguru, y’know the exams coming up so I was wondering if you’d like to help me study! Maybe tonight or tomorrow night, I’m not picky!” You say, happily taking a bite of your food. He looks at you, his eyes empty.
“Sorry, I’m busy.” He says coldly.
“Oh, when are you free then?” You ask, smiling at him. His eyes look darker today. Was he on edge?
“I’d rather study with you then Shoko or Gojo!” You say, laughing a little.
He doesn’t respond to your quip. You look at him oddly. Even if he didn’t respond, he’d normally chuckle a bit. Yet, here he was, staring blankly into the distance being as silent as a rock! You’d think you’d have a better time talking to a brick wall than him!
“Hey, you okay?” You ask, concern lacing your words
You weren’t sure what was happening but something felt off. You were worried about him. For the last few days, your crush on him had expanded and taken over you. It wasn’t that obvious but obvious enough with all the attention and care you gave him.
“Yeah. M’fine.” He says coldly.
You eyebrows furrow in confusion and concern. You put down your food, looking at him. You keep quiet.
“You sure?”
He doesn’t respond, causing you to purse your lips and think. A small smile spreads on you face.
“I know what will cheer you up!” You declare loudly. You pull something out of you pocket. “Here! These are some of your favourite chocolates right?!” You ask, showing them to him. He doesn’t respond.
“Come on, I know they’re probably a bit warm but like-”
“Would you shut up?” He randomly says, finally looking at you. His face annoyed. “You’re so goddamn annoying. Can’t you see I don’t like you back? So stop trying to be all nice with me just so you can get with me alright? You’re so insufferable.”
You swore your heart broke the day he said that. You looked away, embarrassment filling you and tears threatening to stream down. The sound of Shoko and Gojo arriving reached your ears, and you hear Geto greeting them with the softness that you never got.
How idiotic.
Without a word, you stood up and left. They were confused, but they let you be. Why would they need you? After that day, your friendship was never the same with them anymore. They were nice with you, but it was hard to talk to them. You wished all of it never happened and that you were still friends with them. Yet, you can’t change the past.
Worst part was, you still liked him. Even through everything he said, you still held on to your feelings for him. You tried to let go but it never worked. The best course of action is just to pretend you don’t.
~
Shoko 🚬: Hey, we’re going out to the cafe around the corner to study. You want in?
Your eyes squint at the text, trying to confirm it’s authenticity. You were surprised. It had been a while since they invited you to anything. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go or not. You knew he would be there and it would be awkward but you longed to befriend them all again. You can’t just let this one experience ruin it for you.
y/n : Sure! I’ll meet you all there.
You stood at the entrance of the cafe nervously, peering inside. You could see the three of them laughing and smiling together. Studying? It didn’t really look like it. Your grip on your book bag tighten. Were you really doing this?
You suck in a breath, pushing the door open and hearing the bell ring. You scan the surrounding. Shoko immediately calls out to you, waving you over. You smile at her. She had always been the nicest to you.
“hi.” You say nervously, putting your bag down next to Shoko, paying no mind to Suguru who was staring at you.
You ordered a coffee before taking out your books.
“Woah, are you actually studying?” Asks Satoru. You look at him confused. “Crazy, I’m just using this as an excuse to hang out!” He says, laughing loudly. You smile at him and start giggling.
You missed this.
Time went by fast, and before you know it, it was dark outside. You all walked together in a group back to the dorms, laughing and smiling amongst yourselves. It had been ages since you’ve done it. He still hadn’t talked to you much. He never talked to you directly, nor did you to him. It was alright, you didn’t mind. You needed to get over him some way.
As you enter your dorm, and wave goodbye to the others, you fail to notice how his gaze clung onto you.
Geto stares at the closed door in front of him, a million thoughts racing through his head. He had a disdain for you, practically hated you, so why did he ask Shoko if she wanted to invite you to the hang out? Why did he ask? Why did he genuinely enjoy that hang out?
He never liked you. Not in a romantic sense, but he had to admit you were pretty nice as a friend. He missed the time when you were his friend, and one of his biggest regret is that he ruined it on a whim due to a bad day.
He wanted to rekindle the friendship.
Sure, he still hated, no, detested the way you would cling onto him and coddle him, but he couldn’t help but admit he liked seeing you squabble with Shoko. Plus, Shoko needed another girl in the group.
He didn’t really know what to do. On one hand, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed when he sees you near him but at the same time, he didn’t want to be cruel to his friends who wanted to include her in stuff. He could see it in Shoko’s face and hear it in her words that she missed you.
He sighs, unsure of what to do.
He left with a defeated look on his face as he looked down at his phone, typing something out.
Suguru💔: You free tomorrow?
Part 2:
618 notes · View notes
supernovafics · 4 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟐)
Tumblr media
PART ONE | PART TWO
pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader
word count: 15.9k words
summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him manage to agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done
warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), mentions of trust/abandonment issues, some angst, platonic fluff (at first), smut (18+)
author's note: the second and final part! not much to say except enjoy enjoy and happy (almost) new year🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“Do you like Maddie’s dad?”
Hearing that abrupt question fall from Oliver’s lips confused you so much that all you could do was initially answer with a bewildered, “What?”
You were used to Oliver always asking random questions that felt as if they came out of absolutely nowhere; it was especially one of his favorite things to do during any sort of car ride, and this Saturday morning drive to the soccer field for practice was apparently no different. But, you fully did not expect to hear that question from him. 
“Are you guys, like, boyfriend-girlfriend?” He asked, and that follow-up question further confused you, or maybe it more so startled you.
“No… No, we’re not,” You answered and glanced at him sitting in the backseat through the rearview mirror. He was dressed in his dark green soccer uniform, wearing everything except for the cleats because he liked to put them on right before he ran out onto the field with the other kids. “What made you think that?” 
“I don’t know…” You could practically hear him shrug. “But, I think it would be cool if you guys were. Maddie thinks so too.”
You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. “Oh, okay… But, I don’t think that will happen, bud. We’re friends. Just like you and Maddie.”
“Okay.”
It suddenly felt like perfect timing that you were pulling into the gravelly parking lot next to the soccer field. You helped Olly put on and tie up his cleats before he ran over to Maddie and the other kids already on the field. You grabbed the two coffees that were sitting in the cupholder and then headed to the silver metal bleachers, immediately spotting Steve among the other parents.
He gave you a quick wave and smile and you only nodded and smiled back at him since your hands were full and you couldn’t match his wave. It still felt the tiniest bit insane to you that what you had said to Oliver in the car wasn’t a complete lie; you and Steve were in fact friends, and had been for the past month. 
Just days after you two had the moment in your kitchen where the “enemies” hatchet was finally buried, he and Maddie came to the coffee shop sometime in the afternoon. For the first time ever, you didn’t feel like you needed to pretend to be nice to him. Instead, you found yourself actually wanting to be nice and you were glad about this surprise playdate. And that was when you knew that you two were friends, or at the very least, quickly getting there.
He and Maddie stayed for hours. With Maddie and Oliver sitting and playing games in a two-person booth, and Steve standing with you at the front counter. You two talked about random things— the kinds of things that you had a feeling you both would’ve learned about each other during your first-ever conversation if you two had actually been nice to one another— and then you let him try a new drink recipe that you had been playing around with because he was interested, and that became a sort of routine.
“Hi. Morning. Here.” You handed him one of the cups in your hand before taking your spot next to him in the middle row of the bleachers. “It’s another new thing I’m thinking about adding to the menu for the rest of Fall and maybe Winter too. Tell me your thoughts.”
He took a sip of the drink and then nodded. “This is good. Not as insanely sweet as the last thing you made me try.”
“Okay, I know you hated that latte that I gave you last week, but it’s actually been a big hit so far,” You told him. The sweet drink quickly became popular among the high schoolers that would frequent the coffee shop, and you were glad that you listened to Jude— one of your employees who was also a part of that younger demographic— and put it on the menu. “Oh, also, I think you and I might be getting parent trapped soon.”
“Should I be scared?” Steve asked, looking at you with a confused expression.
You stopped mid-sip of your drink. “Wait, have you not seen The Parent Trap?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Jesus, wow, you need to watch that movie, it’s a classic,” You told him, the shock you felt was evident in your tone. “Anyway, though, what I mean is that I think Olly and Maddie are gonna try to get us together. He mentioned in the car ride over here that they both think it would be cool if we started dating.” 
“Oh.”
“I already told him that that wouldn’t happen and we’re just friends, so hopefully that idea will blow over soon,” You said to Steve and then took a long sip from your drink. 
“Knowing our kids, I kinda doubt that will happen,” He responded, and you actually couldn’t help but agree with him. The way Maddie and Olly had managed to convince you and Steve about the playdate thing after a week’s worth of pestering proved that they wouldn’t let go of anything easily. Thinking about it now, you kinda admired how persistent they had been during then.
“Well, in that case, it’s good that they don’t look alike so they can’t try to switch places. But, we need to make sure that we stay away from boats and camping trips.”
Another confused expression crossed Steve’s face. “I really think I need to watch that movie.” 
“Yes, you do,” You said with a nod as you met his eyes. “As my friend, you need to promise me that you will watch that 1998 classic.”
He laughed a bit. “I promise.”
You turned your attention back to the soccer field and shook your head. “I never thought I’d say that.”
“What?”
“That we’re friends,” You said, looking at him again. “But, it’s nice, though.”
Steve nodded at that and gave you a small smile. “Yeah, it is.”   
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Over the past year, you’d come to savor anytime after 9pm. It was the only time of the day, well night, that you were able to have complete peace— no worrying about Oliver because he was asleep, and no worrying about the coffee shop because it was closed. 
On this particular night, long after Olly’s soccer practice and time spent at the coffee shop, you were in your bathroom, washing your face and putting on pajamas; which simply consisted of a random oversized t-shirt and shorts. You decided that you’d curl up in bed and spend the rest of your night watching a shitty reality show because it somehow always felt nice watching other people’s drama. 
Right as you were slipping on your t-shirt, your phone started ringing on the counter, which stopped the music that you had been playing from it, and you looked down to see that it was Steve FaceTiming you. 
This had happened a handful of times over the past month— him calling you, you calling him. It was usually to get quick answers to questions that either of you two had, but sometimes it was also just to talk about random things whenever a simple text didn’t feel like it would suffice. 
“Hi,” You said as you turned off the bathroom light and shut the door before heading to your bed. “Great timing. Oliver went to sleep about fifteen minutes ago.”
You noticed that Steve was also sitting in bed. He pushed a quick hand through his hair as he spoke. “I learned that if I’m gonna call, I should only do it after nine now.”
The last time he FaceTimed you, Oliver had been sitting next to you on the couch. When he heard Steve’s voice, he immediately asked him where Maddie was, and then she heard Olly’s voice from where she was playing in the living room. Barely a second later, your phones were immediately taken by the kids and they talked for an hour. 
“Great thinking,” You told him with a small approving nod. “I hope that whatever you called to talk about is good because I was just about to watch a very riveting reality show about these housewives taking a trip around Europe.”
“Wow, that sounds very fun,” Steve said, and you could hear the sarcasm in his voice.
“Mhm, it will be. I can’t wait until they get to Paris. According to the trailer, some huge argument is gonna happen when they’re at the Arc de Triomphe,” You responded, matching his sarcastic tone.
“Now, I’m really intrigued,” He joked. “Anyway, though, I called to tell you that I just finished watching The Parent Trap.”
You smiled at that. “I’m glad you did your homework early. Did you like it?”
“It was actually pretty good. Maddie watched some of it with me too, but she fell asleep not even halfway through.”
“She’s too young to understand the cultural importance of The Parent Trap just yet. She’ll come around soon.”
“Also, right after practice, she mentioned the dating thing to me. She said that she and Olly think it would be nice if you and me got together.” 
You let out a small sigh. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “She was very persistent too; asked if I thought you were pretty, and said that I should bring you flowers the next time I see you. Apparently, Oliver told her that your favorite ones are daisies, so I should make sure to get those for you.”
Your eyes widened a bit at his words. If you weren’t so shocked, you were almost certain that you would’ve laughed at how much thought your kids were putting into this whole idea. “Oh, wow, they’re relentless.”
“Are daisies actually your favorite?”
“Yeah,” You answered and then sighed again. You weren’t even entirely sure how Oliver knew that. When you two first moved into your house in Hawkins, you would buy fresh daisies every week in an attempt to make the place feel like a home because you barely had any furniture just yet and there weren’t that many decorations up either. But you couldn’t remember the last time you bought any flowers for the place.
Steve let out an amused sound. “Wow, yeah, Maddie and Olly are good.” 
You dating someone was the farthest thing from your mind, but it surprised you that it was the main thing on Oliver’s. You thought that you’d have a longer time before you’d have to worry about that; before you’d have to think about him really wanting some sort of “dad” or “father figure” in his life. Eddie was the closest thing, but Oliver didn’t see him as often anymore since his California move. 
You thought that the little family that you and Olly had, just the two of you, was enough— more than enough, even. 
“I didn’t think that this would happen this soon,” Steve said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “It’s only been a year since her mom left, so I really didn’t think that she’d want me to start dating, get married, whatever, whatever, anytime soon. And I’m too busy to even think about trying to look for someone.”
You agreed with him completely. And then there was also the fact that you simply didn’t want to date anytime soon. You despised the thought of finally having to start over; even though you knew that eventually one day you would. Maybe. 
As cynical and depressing as it sounded, you couldn’t really imagine it happening for you again— falling in love or just simply falling, deeply liking someone. And a part of you would just rather wholly avoid the possibility at all costs. 
You knew that how things ended with Oliver’s dad was not your fault at all, but that didn’t change the fact that you still felt stupid about everything; for being so blind to the affair and for believing his lies for as long as you did. And the thought of all of that potentially happening again— loving and trusting someone just to have them break your heart and fuck you over in one of the worst ways possible— terrified you. 
You could’ve said all of that to Steve, but you felt like that would’ve been way too long-winded and melancholic, so you decided to just simply nod instead. “I don’t know if we should just get used to them trying to get us together, or talk to them and say that us being anything more than friends is never gonna happen.” 
“If it becomes too much we probably should talk to them,” Steve said, and that made sense to you. “But now I’m glad Maddie fell asleep halfway through the movie because it probably would’ve just given her ideas.”
“Have you seen Freaky Friday?”
“No. Is that another movie that can relate to the situation we’re in right now?” 
“No, it’s just a really good movie. Another Lindsay Lohan classic,” You briefly explained. “You should watch it.”
Steve was quiet for a moment, as if he was really thinking about whatever he was about to say. “How about right now?” 
You laughed a bit before mock gasping at his question. “You trying to get me off the phone, Steven?”
He smiled at your fake offended look. “No, I meant that we could watch it right now. Together over the phone.”
“Oh,” You said, trying to hide your surprise at the suggestion. Watching a movie together was technically a friendly thing to do, but it did feel the tiniest bit intimate; like the two of you were crossing into a slightly altered territory of what your friendship was. That still didn’t make the idea necessarily sound bad to you, though. It sounded fun, a better way to spend the rest of your Saturday night than what you had originally planned on doing. “Okay, yeah let’s watch it. I guess I’ll just have to watch the housewives go to Europe at a different time.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“How’s it going so far?” Was the first thing you heard Eddie say when the call connected, and you couldn’t help but smile into your phone at how excited he sounded. It made you happy that you impulsively decided to call him when you stepped into the back room of your coffee shop; the kitchen area that felt equivalent to a second home for you. “It’s great, right?”
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, it’s been really good, honestly.”
The “it” that you both were referring to was the open mic night event happening at the coffee shop right then. Eddie had been the one to suggest the idea nearly a year ago, around the time when the shop finally opened.  
“It would make so much sense,” Was the beginning of his spiel. “This place is the perfect size to set up mic stands and speakers in the front by the window. Pretty much any sort of ‘starving artist’ would love to have a space where they can perform, and most people enjoy live music, so doing this will bring in a ton of business.”
You loved the idea and you agreed with Eddie’s points completely, but then he moved to California and it didn’t feel right to do the idea without him. But, he said that he wouldn’t let you not do it. Because no other place in the small town was doing something like this— and that very valid statement was the reason why tonight was already such a success. A part of you wished that you had done the event sooner, instead of continuously putting it off for months and months. 
The setup of it was simple— anyone with any sort of “talent” that they wanted to share was welcome to perform, and after a particularly awkward magician, the majority of the performances were musical, and almost everyone that decided to go up and sing or play something so far were pretty good. You had even teared up at a brother-sister duo that performed a self-written instrumental piece on the guitar and violin. 
“I would say an ‘I told you so,’ but I love you too much to be that much of an asshole right now.”
“Yeah, and another reason why you shouldn’t say any kind of ‘I told you so’ right now is because I’m still slightly mad at you for bailing at the last second and not being here tonight,” You responded, letting out a small sigh. You leaned against the metal table in the middle of the kitchen where a sheet of freshly baked cookies sat next to you. Eddie was also supposed to be sitting next to you at this moment, sneaking a cookie off the sheet, and then you getting playfully annoyed at him for doing so.
“I know, and I’m still really sorry. My publicist decided to set up something early tomorrow that I can’t get out of,” He said, re-explaining what he had already told you earlier that morning. Of course, you weren’t truly upset with him; he was doing what he loved out there in California, and you were doing what you loved right here in Hawkins. “Is Steve there yet?”
“Yeah, he got here like ten minutes ago. I’ve been so busy, though, so I haven’t gotten the chance to say much more than a quick hi to him.” 
Eddie hummed in response. “Has he fully replaced me yet?”
“Oh, shut up. Steve could never replace you, Munson,” You told him, your words a thousand percent true. “You’re more than just my best friend at this point, you’re like my fucking family. You cannot be replaced, and that also means that you can never get rid of me either, so I hope you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I wouldn’t dream of getting rid of you,” He said, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice; you really missed him being only a ten-minute drive away.
“Thank you. I feel honored. Truly,” You said playfully.
“Oh, also, are Oliver and Madeline still trying to play matchmaker for you guys?” Eddie asked and you rolled your eyes at how amused he sounded. 
Somehow, your attempt in the car that Saturday to shut the dating idea down by telling Oliver that you and Steve were just friends, seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Olly would continuously remind you how much he liked Steve, how cool he was, and how he’d always have the best snacks whenever the kids were having a playdate at his house. Oliver even went as far as to tell you to wear more blue because that was Steve’s favorite color. 
And pretty much the same thing was happening to Steve but with Maddie. According to him, she gushed about you all of the time— perhaps actually convincing Steve to get her a fish only aided in that— and she continued to pester him about buying you flowers. 
But, their antics started calming down over the past few weeks, though, because of every gentle reminder you said to Oliver about how you and Steve were solely friends. It was way too hard to be stern about it because you hated disappointing him and you just really wanted him to be happy. But, before Steve came around, you thought that he was really happy with how things were. 
When you verbalized that thought on the phone to Eddie right then, he simply told you, “Just like you want him to be happy. He wants you to be happy too.”
“Why does he think that happiness comes from Steve?”
“Maybe he and Maddie see something that you two don’t see yet.”
You thought about his words. For a second, you wondered what the kids could possibly see that you and Steve seemed to be oblivious to. 
“Okay, and on that note, I’m gonna go. I’ve probably been gone for far too long. I told Jude that I was just going to grab the cookies that had been cooling for a few minutes and bring them out,” You told him as you took a quick glance at the mix of chocolate chip and sugar cookies again. “I’ll see you in less than a month for Christmas. Oh, and about that, you really didn’t need to buy me and Olly first-class plane tickets.”
You heard his playful scoff. “You guys are my family. Of course, I’m gonna get you first-class tickets.”
“Thank you, and this spoiling treatment is exactly why you’ll never be able to get rid of us,” You said and smiled when you heard Eddie laugh. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon.”  
“Bye.”
When he hung up, you slipped your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans. You grabbed the now cooled cookie sheet and exited the kitchen, going back behind the counter with Jude. Since things had somewhat simmered down compared to how lively it had been an hour and a half ago, you told her that she should finally take her break for the night and she happily accepted the offer.
Steve walked up to you as you started placing the cookies in the display case. “Hi.” 
“Hey, thanks for coming.”
“Yeah, of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” He said, and hearing how genuine his words sounded made you smile. 
“It’s probably too late for coffee, so do you want a hot chocolate?” You asked and looked at him once you finished putting the last few cookies in the case. “It’s free. Friend discount for the night.”
“Wow, that’s a really good discount,” Steve said playfully.
“I like to be very generous to the people I care about,” You told him, matching his tone and smiling. “And I don’t have that many friends, so I’m actually not losing out on a lot of money.” 
He smiled back at you. “Now I feel even more honored that I’m one of them.”
You poured some hot chocolate into the blue mug that you would never admit out loud but was pretty much designated as Steve’s at this point. For some reason, you found yourself always making sure to use it for him whenever he wasn’t getting something to-go, and once you learned from Olly that Steve’s favorite color was blue, it felt even more right to use it for him. In your mind, you saw it as a small gesture that didn’t really mean too much, but maybe that wasn’t entirely true. And that was another thing that you’d never admit out loud. 
“Thank you,” He said as you handed the mug over to him. The small smile he gave you let you know that he recognized the gesture and probably had been for the last month and a half. 
Instead of acknowledging the mug or the hot chocolate or anything else, you nodded your head in the direction of the makeshift “stage” area that you had set up earlier with the help of Jude. 
“Any secret talents you want to go up there and share?” You asked, only slightly joking with your question. “There’s a full waiting list, but I can move you to the top, and I promise I won’t tell anyone.” 
“No, it’s okay, I’d rather not cut in front of everyone that was here before me. Next time, though,” He answered and it was easy to hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“I will definitely hold you to that next time,” You said, playing along with him. “So, what’s your talent? Something tells me that you’re killer at the guitar. Ooh, wait, actually the triangle!”
Steve only gave you an unamused look and you tried your hardest to hold back your laughter.
“I’ll take that as a no to the triangle.”
“I’m gonna change the subject now,” He said, and you nodded, deciding to allow it to happen even though you had at least three more triangle jokes ready to go. “Can you please not let me forget to get some cookies for Maddie before I leave? She’s at my parent’s house for the night, but I promised I’d have some for her tomorrow so she can have them right after the soccer game.”
“Of course, I’ll put some to the side for her,” You told him. “I know the chocolate chip ones are her favorite. Same as Oliver.”
“Where is Olly?”
“At home with a babysitter— this super nice eighth grader that lives next door to us. She texted me half an hour ago that he finally fell asleep after watching Finding Nemo two times.”
“Maddie’s current movie obsession is Monsters Inc.,” Steve said with a small laugh. “We’ve been watching it at least once a night for the past week.”
“That’s a great one. She has good taste,” You said and Steve nodded.
You wanted to keep talking to him, but the sound of the music quieting down and soft clapping pulled you out of the conversation. 
“I’ll be right back. Gotta go announce the next person going up. Are you sure you don’t want it to be you?” You asked him teasingly.  
Steve only shook his head and rolled his eyes at you as you started walking away. 
You went up and introduced the next person, a middle-aged guy with a guitar who started playing the acoustic version of a song that you vaguely recognized from the radio. 
Steve was still standing right where you left him, lingering by the front counter and drinking from his mug, and you headed back to your spot behind the counter. He mentioned the PTA meeting last night that heavily talked about the Winter Carnival happening next week and Leslie, the head of the PTA, told everyone what their jobs would be— Steve was assigned to the popcorn station and you were put on the ring toss game. You and Steve already made plans to take the kids Saturday night since the First Grade parents only had to “volunteer” on Friday. He laughed at a joke you made right then about being surprised that you weren’t being forced to “volunteer” Friday and Saturday to make up for the fact that you didn’t help out last year.
Things went like that for the next hour— you two talking and laughing with one another, and some people coming up to order teas and hot chocolates and the occasional latte— until the time hit nine o’clock and the night came to its end. After giving a generous round of applause to the final performer and you announcing the end of this first open mic night, everyone slowly started heading out. 
A few people came up to you, telling you how great the night was and saying that you needed to do this again. You made a mental note to text Eddie later and once again thank him for this idea, and you’d maybe even let him finally say an “I told you so.”
You bagged up three chocolate chip cookies for Madeline and were about to hand them over to Steve, who was now sitting in an empty booth, and say your goodbye to him when Jude came up to you. There was a look on her face that resembled a cross between annoyance and slight worry. 
“I’m so sorry. I just got a call from my brother. He broke his arm while at his friend’s house and he’s at the hospital right now. And my parents are out of town for the weekend, so I’m the only “adult” around who knows all of the insurance stuff and everything, so I have to go. I’m sorry.”
The look on her face immediately made complete sense to you right then. Ever since you hired Jude eight months ago, you became very used to hearing her teenage rambles about her ten-year-old brother who she would constantly describe as the “bane of her existence.” Therefore, the fact that she was annoyed about this incident wasn’t surprising, but it was also a little heartwarming to see that you could tell that she was also, at least, the tiniest bit worried about him. 
“Yes, go. I completely understand. I hope he’s okay.”
“He’s an idiot, but he’ll be fine,” She responded as she joined you behind the counter for a second to grab her jacket that was hanging on one of the hooks and then started heading to the front door. “I’m really sorry again.”
“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise. Go, go,” You told her and she nodded. The bell chimed as she opened the door, and chimed again when it fell shut. 
You went over to Steve, sitting down across from him and handing over the bag of chocolate chip cookies. 
“Thanks,” He said, giving you a small smile. “I can stay and help you clean up if you want.” 
“I hope you really mean that because we’re past the point in our friendship where I would politely decline that offer to be nice. I’d actually really love some help right now.”
Steve laughed a bit. “I do mean it. And I owe you for the free hot chocolate and cookies.”
“You don’t owe me at all because that was the friend discount, but I will still accept that reasoning,” You said and smiled at him before slipping out of the booth. 
It was second nature for you to silently go into the routine that you were so used to doing at the end of every night— clearing mugs and small plates off the tables and tossing empty cups into the nearby trash can— and Steve followed suit.
Your mind almost immediately traveled to thinking about tomorrow, already going through and planning out what the day would look like— Oliver’s soccer game was in the morning and then you’d be back here for the rest of the day with Olly taking his spot in his favorite booth and proceeding to work on homework and then playing games, and you’d be at the cash register or in the kitchen working half of the day with Kyle, another one of your employees, and then the other half with Jude. You were then reminded that you would need to check in with her in the morning about her brother and see if she’d even be able to come in tomorrow. 
Your never-ending thoughts should’ve been taking a break for at least an hour or two, it was late and you were exhausted. But, whenever you were here closing up for the night, it was hard not to think about everything that could technically be deemed as “morning problems for tomorrow.” The relief you’d always feel about one day going really well would oh so quickly be replaced with the stressed need to make sure that the next day also went well, which made it completely impossible to not think about it. 
You weren’t sure how long things had been quiet, but when you heard Steve break the silence and softly say, “You okay?” you became aware of how long it had been since either of you had said something. 
“Oh, sorry, yeah, I’m just thinking a lot, I guess. Running through a million things at once,” You told him as you cleared one of the last tables, grabbing the mug full of a half-drunken latte and crumb-filled plate. 
“Okay, yeah, that’s what I thought. You kinda get this certain look on your face when you’re thinking really hard.”
You let out a laugh. “Does it resemble a deer in headlights? Because Eddie’s told me that one before.”
Steve coughed, which you knew was him just trying to hold back his laugh, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him as he spoke. “I feel bad saying yes, but yeah he’s right.”
“Just so you know, you also have a very uncute serious face.”
“I didn’t say yours wasn’t cute.”
You weren’t entirely sure what felt more unexpected; Steve’s words or how immediately affected you felt by them. Any quip or teasing joke you had on the tip of your tongue vanished in a matter of seconds, and your mind effectively became a flustered pile of mush; almost embarrassingly so. 
You were glad that Steve couldn’t see you right then, and you were especially glad that you two were on completely opposite sides of the shop at that moment— you putting the dirty mug and plate in the sink, and him clearing off the final table and tossing a coffee cup and random wrapper in the trash— because that distance meant that there was no way that you could read too heavily into what he just said, and he couldn’t pick up on how awkward and confused you immediately felt because of it.
A forced laugh fell from your lips, and you hoped to God and the universe and whatever else was out there that it didn’t sound completely fake. 
You walked over to the front window, where the makeshift stage area was, and grabbed the mic stand and wooden stool and Steve grabbed the two now unplugged speakers and followed you to the storage closet in the back. Once all of that was put away, you would just need to prep the cookie dough for tomorrow, and then the night would be done. 
“How are your baking skills, Harrington?” You asked him. You met his eyes for the first time in the past few minutes, it felt easier to do so now since your mind was back to only thinking about work.
“I’ve never baked anything before, but I’m good at following instructions.”
You smiled at that answer and it was what led you both to the kitchen. After washing your hands, you grabbed two metal bowls and the ingredients that would be needed for the cookies. And Steve was telling the truth, he was good at following instructions— you did the dough for the chocolate chip cookies, and you told him what to do for the sugar ones since they were a little bit easier, and it was all finished faster than you had expected. You put some plastic wrap over both bowls before placing them in the fridge.
“Thanks for all of the help tonight,” You told him. You both were now washing your hands at the sink that was full of the dishes that were the actual final thing you’d have to do before leaving. “If you’re ever in dire need of a part-time job, you’re hired.”
“Is the employee discount as good as the friend discount?” Steve asked as you turned off the water. He ripped off a paper towel and handed it to you and then grabbed one for himself. 
“It’s twenty percent.”
“I think I’ll just stick to being your friend then.”
That time you did entirely read into his words, as playful as they were. Just friends. That was exactly what you wanted and needed from him. You weren’t in the right headspace to consider being anything else with him, and you weren’t sure you ever would be. 
And besides, you liked being friends with him. It had been completely unexpected, but you liked talking to him, and you liked hanging out with him during Oliver and Madeline’s playdates that now felt like they were playdates for you both too, and you liked watching movies on the phone with him some nights before you went to bed— just last night you’d watched the first Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movie, as per Steve’s request. 
You were perfectly okay with being just friends with Steve, and as you continuously told Olly, it was the only thing that you two would ever be.  
You looked at him right then and he almost immediately met your gaze. 
“I don’t know how I’m just now noticing this, but you got some flour on your forehead,” You told him. Before he could say anything, you stepped closer to him and reached up to brush the white substance away with the damp paper towel in your hand. 
He gave you a soft look and there was a small smile on his face. “Thanks.”
It was obvious what sequence of events should’ve happened next— you should’ve told him that you just needed to clean the dishes in the sink and then the night would officially be done, and he didn’t have to stay for that. You should’ve finally said a goodbye and see you tomorrow to him.
However, right then, neither of you moved, and instead this sudden close proximity and the look and smile on his face made you get hit with the abrupt feeling that you wanted something more to happen, something more than just a friendly goodbye that was maybe followed by a simple hug. 
It was an insane idea that contradicted everything you had just told yourself. But, deep down you knew that the reason why you felt the urge to kiss him right here in this moment was the same reason why you always used the same mug for him every time he came here, and why you refused to admit it out loud. And right then, you still refused to dissect exactly what that all meant and what it would come to mean in the long run. 
Just for a second, you didn’t want to think about anything. You wanted to turn your brain off and simply focus on this moment that somehow felt so fucking right.  
And maybe Steve could read how much you wanted this to happen through the enamored look that you were certain was written all over your face, and that was why he let his hand come up to meet your cheek and why he leaned in closer, which made your eyes fall shut in anticipation. 
There was such a huge part of you that wanted this to happen, that felt as if you needed it to because maybe it had always been inevitable.
However, it didn’t take long for the existential dread to creep into your mind and prick right at the forefront of it. The reminders of why you’d been so scared of something like this happening with anyone for the past three years hit you like a freight train. Once you thought about all of that, you couldn’t force yourself to think or not think about anything else. Your mind was now on Oliver’s dad and what that entire situation with him changed for you— how it made you think about and see everything involving love so differently. 
And it was that painful reminder of what you were now terrified of that made you pull away from Steve and turn your head at the last second.
“I… I’m sorry.” 
Your gaze was fixed on the floor because you couldn’t bear to see what look was written across Steve’s face right then. 
“It’s okay.” His voice was soft when he spoke, which somehow made you feel worse.
“It’s just…” You wanted to say something, but you couldn’t pull your thoughts together fast enough. Your mind was moving in a thousand different directions and you still couldn’t even muster up the courage to simply look at Steve right then.
“You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, really,” He assured you again and you felt like he was being way too nice to you when you felt like the shittiest person.
“No, I wanna explain…” You told him, finally meeting his eyes. It was hard to read what he was thinking or feeling right then. “It’s just… I can’t– I don’t know.” You shook your head at yourself for being at such a loss for words at that moment. “I’m really sorry.” 
“No, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Let’s just pretend this never happened,” He stepped away from you then, and you let him, deciding not to say anything else— you could no longer trust your voice, anyway. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the soccer game.”
You nodded quickly because you knew that there was nothing else to do. “Mhm, yup, yeah, see you tomorrow.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Oliver gave you a look that he knew you wouldn’t be able to deny— there were puppy dog eyes and a pout that actually made your heart hurt. He was good. And you were weak.
“Okay, you can finish this episode, but then you’re starting your homework, bud.” 
He smiled and leaned back into the couch, turning his attention back to the cartoon that was playing on the television in the living room. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome,” You told him. You were completely okay with giving Olly some time to relax after school before starting his homework, but somehow you were almost always convinced by him to turn the thirty minutes into an hour— and maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised that this Wednesday afternoon was no different. 
It was also, overall, a surprisingly calm afternoon. There weren’t a thousand tasks on your plate right then; the calls you had to make and orders you had to place were already done. You had been at the coffee shop the entire morning and some of the afternoon before you had to pick Olly up from school, and Jude and Kyle would be closing for the night. Essentially, you would be free for the rest of the evening and night.
Instead of attempting to find anything to stress about at that moment, you were sitting on the small loveseat in the living room with your laptop balancing on the arm of the chair as you scrolled through the pictures taken during the open mic night.
Having a photographer for the night had been Steve’s suggestion, and it made sense coming from him given that he was in marketing, and he said that posting some on social media would be a good way to promote the event if and when you decided to do it again. You also thought it could be a nice idea to frame some and hang them up in the coffee shop. 
For most of the night, you’d forgotten that there had been a photographer there because of how discreet Shelby had been the entire time. But now you were looking at the edited pictures she emailed you earlier that morning of everything she’d taken barely a week ago, and you were already blown away even though you’d only looked at the first ten so far. 
There were a bunch of shots of people sitting at tables and booths happily enjoying their drinks and food, and there were also some of the people who decided to go up and perform. As you clicked through each of the photos and made mental notes of which ones you’d maybe want to post or hang up, you abruptly stopped at one of you and Steve. 
It shouldn’t have been that surprising to see a photo of you and him, you had been with each other during most of the night, but it still genuinely startled you to see such a candid moment of the two of you.
You were standing on one side of the counter and Steve was on the other— that was the only part of the photo that didn’t surprise you. You couldn’t tell just from that single shot what you two had been talking about in that moment, but it looked like whatever the conversation was about was a good one. There was a wide and elated smile on your face that reached your eyes, which were staring right into Steve’s, and an adoring look was written so clearly across his face along with a small smile. 
It looked like you two were dating; like you were newlyweds, even— if it were strangers in this photo, you would’ve easily thought either of those things. It looked like a picture of two people in love, so completely and utterly in love with each other. 
And it especially looked so goddamn obvious. 
Before even seeing this picture, it was clear to you that you felt something for him— what other reason would have made you almost kiss him that night? But, you didn’t realize just how deeply you felt, and you had forced yourself not to think about any of that over the last few days. You hoped that if you avoided and didn’t think about it, it would all just eventually go away. However, now that it was staring you right in the face, it suddenly became way too hard to deny everything or push it away or even pretend that you hadn’t just seen that picture. 
You were hit so abruptly with the truth that you couldn’t not finally admit it to yourself. You always gave him the same mug when he came to the coffee shop because you liked him. You wanted so badly to kiss him that night because you liked him. Fuck.
You quickly realized that what you saw in that photo was what Oliver and Madeline saw all of the time, and now it made complete sense why they were trying to push you and Steve into each other’s arms. Although you and him were apparently oblivious, they saw how happy you two were with each other. 
Eddie was right.
Your once calmed mind was now back to running a million miles a minute, and it became fully submerged with thoughts of Steve and how you felt about him and the almost kiss that you tried your hardest to forget ever even happened. You felt the overwhelming urge to cry the longer you looked at the photo, but you still couldn’t help but keep staring at it. 
You stood up from the loveseat and took a brief look at Olly before you walked out of the living room, he was laughing at the show on the TV. You went into the kitchen, setting your laptop down on the table and pulling your phone out of where it was in the pocket of the sweatpants you were wearing. You called the only person that you wanted to talk to at that moment, and you hoped that he wasn’t busy even though it was barely noon in California right then. 
When Eddie answered with a happy “Hello” on the fourth ring, you immediately said, “You were right.”
“Right about what?”
You bypassed his question for the moment. “I’m gonna send you a picture and just tell me what you… See in it. What you notice about it.” 
“That sounds very cryptic, but I’m intrigued,” He said and if it were any other moment, you probably would’ve cracked a smile at Eddie’s comment, but you felt way too stressed to do so.  
You texted him the photo of you and Steve through your laptop and when it said “Delivered” after a few seconds, you waited for whatever Eddie had to say about it. He’d be the one to tell you if you were crazy and overthinking things with the picture or not. 
It was quiet for barely thirty seconds before he said something. “Woah. Shit.”
You were mindlessly pacing back and forth from the table to the sink as you held the phone to your ear. “Can I get a full sentence, please?”
“I knew that you liked him, but I didn’t know you were in love with him.”
That was not at all the response you were expecting to hear from him. 
“What? You didn’t— I don’t—” You shook your head and took a breath. “Before seeing that picture, what could’ve possibly made you think that I liked him?”
“From the moment you told me that you and him were finally friends, there was just something about the way you talked about him. And then as you guys got closer and you talked about him more, it just seemed pretty obvious.”
Once again, Eddie said something that was entirely unexpected. It was hard to imagine it— you walking around with a crush that was apparently obvious to everyone but you— but you now knew it was true. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? You never called me out about it.”
“I figured you’d just tell me when you wanted to or when you decided to do something about the crush,” He answered, and that was such a nonchalant and Eddie kind of response that it didn’t surprise you in the slightest bit. “Is this your way of finally telling me?”
“No,” Was your immediate answer. In a way, it felt like a reflex or second nature to deny how you were feeling. “I’m not even sure if I actually have feelings for him.”
Your life would’ve been so much easier if that wasn’t a complete lie. 
Eddie immediately laughed at your words and when you didn’t join in, he stopped. “Oh, you’re being serious. I thought you were joking.”
“It’s just…” You had absolutely no idea how to finish your statement. You sighed and finally sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m really, really confused and scared, Eddie.”
Before he could say anything in response to that, you closed your eyes and said your next words. “Me and him almost kissed.” 
“Woah, what the hell? When?”
“It was last week at the open mic night. He stayed and helped me clean up because Jude had to leave early. We were washing our hands after making cookie dough and somehow we were about to kiss, but I pulled away at the last second and then he left. And we’ve been pretending like none of that happened ever since.”
It actually hadn’t been so hard to force things to be normal and completely okay between you two. Neither you nor Steve brought up what happened, just like you both agreed on, and in a way, it was easy to pretend as if the moment never happened in the first place— technically, nothing actually did happen, anyway. 
“Why did you pull away?”
“It was because of a mix of a bunch of things that are all basically the same thing,” You said and then let out a sigh. “I never thought that I’d want to be with someone again; like them or love them or whatever else. And I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to feel anything even remotely equivalent to love ever again because of the shitstorm my marriage became. And I do like Steve and I do feel all of those things that I didn’t think I ever would again, but I still don’t know if I'll ever be ready for something… More. Something real again because of everything that happened with…” You trailed off; you didn’t have to say his name for Eddie to know exactly who you were talking about. 
“Fuck that guy,” Eddie said with a huff. “I swear if I ever meet him, I’m gonna beat his ass.”
The conviction in his tone made you smile. “Thank you.”
“I do think that you can trust Steve, though. He’s one of the good ones. If this fucking picture says anything, it’s that he definitely feels the same way as you. And if it says anything else, it’s that he wouldn’t even think about fucking things up.”
It was hard not to smile at Eddie’s words. “You can see all of that in this photo?”
“You know the saying. A picture’s worth a thousand words or some shit,” He told you, and you could practically hear the shrug in his voice, which made you laugh for a second before you thought about something. 
“What if I’m the one that’ll mess everything up?” You asked him and then your mind traveled back to that night— you basically running away from everything, and Steve accepting that and walking away from it all too. Why would he want to try again with you? “Actually, never mind, I think I already did.”
“No, you didn’t,” Eddie reassured you, and for once it was hard to believe his words. “When are you gonna see him again?”
You thought for a second. “A little bit on Friday because we both have to volunteer at the Winter Carnival thing, but I doubt I’ll be able to have an actual conversation with him there. But, I’ll see him Saturday for the last soccer game and then later that night because we’re gonna take the kids to the carnival.”
“Okay, be honest with him there.”
“You make doing that sound so easy, Munson.”
“I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy— especially after all of the shit you went through with Olly’s dad. And it’s pretty clear that a lot of that happiness does come from Steve,” Eddie told you and for the first time, you didn’t have the urge to deny those words. “If you’re honest with him and he’s understanding and likes you too much to let you go, then everything works out and that’s great. Or, if you’re honest and it turns out that he thinks you did mess everything up too much and doesn’t wanna be with you, then fuck Harrington too and I’ll also beat his ass.” 
“For once, I actually believe that you did have a “bad boy” phase.”
“I told you. I used to be such a badass,” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. “But, seriously, just know that I’ll be there for you no matter what scenario happens, so don’t worry about which one does. Also, just know that if, when I see you next week for Christmas, you haven’t said anything to him and there’s been no resolution to this situation yet, I will only let Oliver stay with me. You can find a hotel somewhere.”
“I promise I’ll say something,” You told him, and it truly didn’t feel like you were lying, and Eddie could tell that too.
When the call ended moments later and you placed your phone down next to your laptop, you looked at the picture again. 
You no longer felt startled seeing you and Steve like this— so smitten and happy. It made you feel content, at ease even. You felt yourself smile a little, and it was like you were a little kid with a crush all over again; which, technically, had been the case for the last month, but now you were aware of it and it felt weirdly good.
You realized then that it was a mistake pulling away from Steve that night. A big mistake that you sincerely hoped you could recover from because you no longer wanted to run away. And you hoped Eddie was right in saying that it actually wasn’t too late and you didn’t completely mess everything up. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
There hadn’t been a right moment all night. Or maybe you were just getting too into your head about everything. 
In the handful of days leading up to the Winter Carnival, it was hard to keep your mind off of Steve. Instead of beginning to second guess yourself and becoming unsure of everything— like you expected to happen since feeling like this again was so foreign to you— it all only became more and more certain. Your mind was the clearest it had been in such a long time; it was almost as if once you decided to no longer avoid how you felt, the rest just seemed to fall into place.
However, when Saturday night finally came around and you met up with Steve in the grassy parking lot of the large field where the carnival was happening, your focus was solely on Oliver and Madeline. Seeing how happy and content they were going on the few rides that were set up and playing the games, made it easy to forget what you needed to do. And it also made a part of you not want to do it— not want to change things; potentially for the worse if Steve actually didn’t feel the same way or no longer wanted anything to happen. But then you’d think about that picture and what Eddie said, and you knew that you had to find that moment to finally be honest, no matter what the outcome would be.
But still, no moment had been the right one. Not the moment where there was a brief lull of silence between you and Steve when Olly and Maddie were intensely focused on playing whack-a-mole, and not the moment where you and Steve quietly watched from the sidelines as they went on the train ride that just went round and round in a wide circle for a few minutes. And not even now when the night had finally come to its end and you both were about to drive away and leave.
The kids were fast asleep in their car seats and you and Steve lingered by the front of your cars. He had already said his goodnight to you and you reluctantly said the same, and you knew that he was about to turn and step inside his car— you could tell by the small smile he gave you— so you had to finally say something 
“Wait, um, before you go. I wanted to say…” You trailed off for a second and then you were speaking before you even realized what you were saying. “Do you want to go on a date sometime?”
Right as the question left your lips, you felt like an idiot. That was not what you were supposed to say; at least, not first. For a moment, Steve only looked at you, confused. Your question lingered harshly in the cold Winter air and you were about to take it back and start from the beginning, the actual beginning, but Steve finally said something.
“A date? Like, a real date?” He asked after what felt like the longest stretch of silence that you thought you’d ever experienced, and when you only nodded in response, because you were too nervous to say anything more right then, he said, “What’s changed since the open mic night? After that, I was pretty sure that you didn’t feel anything for me.” 
“I’m sorry. I know this sounds like it’s coming entirely out of nowhere. I had this whole long thing planned to say, and I messed up and started at the end instead of the beginning because I’m an idiot,” You sighed and then pulled your phone out of your coat pocket. “Can I send you something? It’s one of the pictures from that night that the photographer took.”
If Steve didn’t already think that this entire moment was insane, he probably did now, but he still said, “Okay.”
You sent him the picture that had now been sitting in your camera roll since Wednesday and then tucked your phone back into your pocket, eyes back on Steve and waiting for his reaction. 
“Oh,” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth. Other than the clear surprise, it was hard to read his expression right then. “Oh, wow.”
“That was probably my exact reaction when I saw it too,” You said, letting out a small laugh that felt entirely too awkward, but you pushed past it. “Okay, now here’s the very long-winded speech that I’ve been kinda rehearsing in my head for the past few days and I hope I don’t mess it up this time.” You took a breath and didn’t let your gaze break from his. “I like you, Steve. A lot. That picture kind of says it all, and it gave me the much-needed push to stop being so oblivious toward everything. The reason that I pulled away that night wasn’t because I don’t feel anything for you, it was because I do feel everything for you— and that’s terrifying as hell. Because you already know about everything that happened between me and Oliver’s dad, and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to go through. I loved him and he hurt me and pretty much ruined the entire way I viewed love and relationships. I never thought that I would want to date again, and I honestly wanted to just avoid it entirely, but now here you are.”
You took a breath, probably your first one in the past minute and a half. “And although doing this right now still does kinda scare the crap out of me, it’s an okay kind of scary— if that makes sense. The thought of finally starting over and starting something with you doesn’t feel as terrifying as I thought it would. Instead, it feels really exciting. And I hope that me running away that night didn’t completely mess things up between us before they really even got the chance to start.”
As your final words left your lips, you finally pulled your eyes away from Steve’s. 
He was quiet for what felt like forever, but you knew that he was just processing everything you said, which was a lot, and the overall length felt equivalent to a speech that you had to give in high school during your History class. That had been such a nerve-wracking moment, and you remembered nearly throwing up once you were finished speaking and sitting back at your desk— this time also felt sort of similar to that. But, in this moment, it also felt like the biggest weight was lifted off of your shoulders, so you didn’t regret your words at all. 
The longer you waited for Steve to say something, anything, the more you got the urge to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to reject you— the prolonging silence made you feel like that would be the inevitable thing to happen right then. It wouldn’t be the outcome you wanted, and you’d leave this makeshift parking lot partially devastated, but also with your head held high, at least, because you had been honest and you tried.
The words were about to leave your lips— the same ones he said to you that night; “It’s okay”— but then he smiled at you, a soft smile that managed to too easily warm you up from the inside out, and then he shook his head. “You didn’t ruin everything.”
“Really?” 
“Really,” He said, and it was that reassurance that made you inwardly let out a breath. “I completely understand why you’ve been scared— a part of me is really scared too because of everything that happened last year. There was barely any sort of a relationship left between me and Maddie’s mom before she left, but that didn’t really make going through that any easier. I trusted her and a part of me loved her, and in the beginning, I hoped that she would come back— maybe more for Maddie’s sake than mine. Once I fully accepted that she wasn’t, and deep down I think I always knew that, I never thought that I’d fall for someone else so soon. But, it was almost too easy to fall for you— and I think it started happening before I could even realize it was happening. And like you said, that picture pretty much says it all. So, yes to the date. Definitely yes.”
It was hard not to smile at his final words. It made you want to kiss him, but that felt like it was something that should be saved for a different moment entirely. 
You stepped closer to him and pushed yourself up on your toes, letting your arms loop around his neck and hugging him instead. It seemed almost instinctual how quickly Steve’s arms came up to circle your waist. 
You two had hugged a few times before, usually they were quick and in lieu of a “Goodbye” or “See you later,” and they were typically never anything more or less than a side hug. But, this one was completely different, it definitely didn’t say goodbye or see you later. Instead, it somehow managed to say a thousand other things. 
How tightly Steve held you, told you that he wouldn’t even think about hurting you or breaking your heart, and it also let you know that Eddie was right about you being able to trust Steve completely. 
And how your face was buried in Steve’s neck, fully taking in his scent, told him that he didn’t need to be scared of how quickly he was falling for you, the past wouldn’t repeat itself. 
Both of you had your shitty pasts, that in some ways you both were still recovering from, but it didn’t mean that you had to disregard or push aside what this was— these strong feelings you two had. Neither of you would say it out loud just yet, but it was clear that you loved each other. 
It was way too soon to put those three words out there, but they didn’t have to be said for both of you to know that they already existed so prominently between you two. The long embrace managed to say it all.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Things were left fairly open-ended that Saturday night because it was quickly discovered that your schedules were way too busy with work and holiday plans to do something as soon as you both wanted to. And then, after a few texts and a late-night FaceTime call, it was decided that you’d see each other and plan things out when you and Oliver got back on the twenty-seventh from spending Christmas in California. 
You wanted so badly to kiss him when you saw him for the first time after a week of nothing but texts and sporadic phone calls— and that feeling only increased tenfold when you noticed the bouquet of daisies in his hand. But you couldn’t kiss him in a coffee shop full of people, so you settled for a hug instead, where he very subtly whispered in your ear how badly he also wanted to kiss you at that moment.
He and Madeline stayed for most of that afternoon. She played board games in a booth with Oliver, and Steve helped you out with little tasks you had to do since, on that day, it was just you working in the coffee shop. It was hours full of lingering touches— his hand brushing against your waist or hip at the most random of moments, and you standing almost flush next to him and your hands continuously grazing his as you showed him how to work the coffee machine— and long looks that made your brain feel fuzzy.
Both of you were standing in the back kitchen area when one of his hands found yours after you finished putting a sheet of cookies in the oven. “I already have an idea for what I want us to do for our date.”
You stepped a little closer to him and found his other hand to intertwine it with yours. “Since I asked you on the date, I think that I should be the one to plan it.”
“You can plan the second one,” He told you and it was hard not to smile at that. “So, when’s the next night you’re free?”
“New Year’s Eve, actually. We’re gonna be closed here then, and New Year’s Day too.”
Steve nodded. “Okay, perfect.”
Now that night had finally rolled around, and in comparison to the anticipation you’d been feeling for the last few days about it, a good kind of nervousness was coursing through your body as you hurried down the stairs when the doorbell rang at seven o’clock.
Oliver was already in the living room playing Connect Four with your next door neighbor, Natalie, who was almost always willing to babysit him for you. And she didn’t even seem to mind doing it tonight, even though it was New Year’s Eve, because she said that it would get her out of going to this party with her parents at her dad’s job. You still promised to pay her double the amount you usually gave her. 
“I left some money to order a pizza,” You told Natalie as you quickly put your shoes on, a pair of boots that stopped just below your knee and nicely complimented the short length of the dress you were wearing, and then you grabbed your coat and purse. “Call or text me if anything happens or you need something, you know the usual.”
“Got it,” She responded with a quick nod as she made her next move in the game. 
“I’ll see you later, Olly. Are you still gonna try and stay up until midnight?”
Oliver smiled up at you and nodded. “Yup.” 
“Good luck,” You said, smiling back at him.
You opened the front door and were immediately met with the sight of Steve standing at your doorstep, wearing a nice pair of black jeans and a coat over his long-sleeved white button-up shirt. 
You closed and locked the door behind you before turning to look at him again, a small smile on your face. “Hi.”
“Hi,” He told you and then his gaze traveled down your body for a brief second before meeting your eyes again. “You look really great.”  
His words let you know that you definitely made the right decision about pulling out the red strapless dress that had been sitting in your closet for the past year. It had no real reason to come out until now; for a date with someone that you really liked. And even after a year, it still looked great on you, hugged your body in all the right places, and made you feel really good. This was the first time in a long time that you were out of your typical “mom attire,” simple jeans and a plain t-shirt that was typically covered by an apron, and you wanted to look extra nice tonight; even if you and Steve wouldn’t be doing something fancy or extravagant.  
“Thank you,” You responded, smiling wider at him. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but as long as it’s not a hike or paintball, I think I should be fine.”
“Don’t worry, I think high-intensity things like that are usually saved for third dates,” He said playfully. 
“Oh, yeah, that’s so true,” You said, matching his tone and nodding. “But, if you force me to go on a hike for our third date, I’ll never go out with you again.”
“Okay, got it. Is paintball still on the table, though?”
“Sure.”  
“Great, so I won’t have to cancel our reservation in three weeks,” He responded, and the over-dramatic sigh in relief he let out made you laugh a bit.
It was almost embarrassing how easily Steve made you feel like you were back in middle school and crushing on the boy in your Math class. You hoped Josh Miller was doing well wherever he currently was because right then, as Steve reached out his hand and you slipped yours into his open palm, you knew for a fact that you were.
“Do I finally get to find out what we’re doing tonight?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat of his car.
Steve shook his head. “You’ll see once we get there.”
You sighed but still nodded. “The anticipation is killing me, just so you know.”
“Please don’t die before I get to show you everything.” 
That got a smile from you. “I’ll try my hardest not to.”
The drive was only about fifteen minutes— with you controlling the radio the entire time, and Steve’s hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel resting on your exposed thigh, and his thumb lightly stroking the bare skin throughout most of the ride. It was an action that essentially made your brain short circuit and was the reason why you had accidentally stopped on a station playing country music for longer than you intended. Your brain only started working again when the car was parked and you noticed that you were in his driveway.  
You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Usually, you bring the person back to your house at the end of the date, not the beginning, Harrington. How long has it been since the last time you did this?”
“Ha ha,” He said with a playful roll of his eyes at your sarcastic question. “The date is actually happening here, so that rule doesn’t really apply to this situation.”
“Okay, fair,” You responded, nodding. Your mind was already starting to run through the possibilities of what he had set up for you in his house.
“I’ll be right back, I just need to check something really quick first,” He told you and you only nodded again. 
Steve was barely gone for five minutes before he was opening the passenger door for you and helping you step out of the car. 
“Can I cover your eyes?”
“You’re actually making me really nervous now, but I’ll allow it,” You answered and he stepped behind you, covering your eyes with his hands.
“I think I might be more nervous than you,” He whispered, lips brushing your ear, which sent something equivalent to a shiver down your spine and you were glad that you had your coat on because it hid your goosebumps.
“Impossible,” You told him. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I hate surprises?”
“Yes, because now I don’t believe you.”
He was right to not believe you because that was technically a lie, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t still nervous about what this surprise would be. 
You expected him to guide you up the front steps of his house, but instead, you were led a different way, to the backyard. At some point, Steve stopped you both, but he still kept covering your eyes as he began talking. 
“Okay, so the initial idea I had was that we go to a drive-in movie theater because I feel like movies are kind of our thing at this point, and going to just a normal theater would be boring. But, the closest drive-in is over an hour away, and there was one specific movie I wanted us to watch anyway, so I decided to just set something up here.”
He pulled his hands away then and you opened your eyes. The first thing you saw was 
the large blanket set up in the middle of the backyard, there were a bunch of pillows on it along with a few folded up blankets and you noticed the plastic bowl full of candy and bucket of popcorn too. You then saw the projector screen that was set up a few feet in front of the blanket and the movie that was already queued up on it. Since it was currently paused, you could see the name in the top left corner— The Parent Trap. Everything was perfect, and you were about to tell Steve exactly that, but he started talking again before you could. 
“And I know you’re dressed up really nice right now, which means that you were probably expecting us to do something fancy, so I’m sorry if this is kind of a disappointment. But, I promise next time I’ll take you to the fanciest restaurant ever and—”
You cut off his rambling by turning to him and kissing his cheek. “This is the most thoughtful thing I think anyone has ever done for me. I love this.”
He smiled and you could see the happy relief washing over his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling back at him.
You pulled off your coat and slipped off your shoes and then grabbed one of the folded blankets to wrap around yourself before sitting down. 
“Maddie helped with a lot of the setup. She told me to add more pillows and blankets so that everything could feel really cozy,” Steve told you and you nodded at that, saying a quick, “She was very right.” “Also, I wasn’t sure what type of candy was your favorite, so I got a little bit of everything.” 
You grabbed the first stray bag of Skittles that you were able to find in the plastic bowl. “These are probably my favorite, but I do kinda like everything.”
“Okay, good to know for next time,” He said and there was something about the mention of “next time” that made your heart happily feel as if it was about to burst in your chest. 
Steve walked over to where the projector and his laptop were set up on his patio table so that he could start the movie. When he sat down right next to you, you gave him some of your blanket and he didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you as the opening credits and song started playing. 
The cold got to you quicker than you expected it to. You shifted a bit so that your legs were draped over Steve’s lap, you were almost sitting in his lap with how close you were. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his warmth and the blanket that was draped over you both engulf you completely. But when the blanket and his own body heat still weren’t enough to keep you warm, he went inside and grabbed a hoodie for you to wear. 
Not even halfway through the movie, you could feel his gaze solely on you; maybe it was to make sure that you were comfortable, which you were, or maybe it was to make sure that you were enjoying everything, which you also were. 
You looked at him, an amused smile on your face. “You should be watching the movie, not me.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything— just simply kept looking at you, admiring you— until he finally did say something. “I know that this is completely breaking first date etiquette and another one of the “rules,” but I really wanna kiss you right now.”
You were nodding before the final words even managed to leave his lips. “Do it.” 
One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and he simply stared at you for a second before tilting your head up a bit and leaning in to softly slot his lips against yours. It was slow at first, like you both really wanted to savor this moment since it was the first time this was ever happening. 
Pushing yourself impossibly closer to him, your mouths moved against each other so seamlessly, almost as if this wasn’t the first time this was happening between you two— there was absolutely no confusion or uncertainty laced within this intimate moment. 
Steve pulled away slowly too, which elicited a soft and quiet whine from you. A sound that managed to oh so easily flip the switch for the both of you. From there, things became much more desperate and needy, as if you were two teenagers who just discovered what making out was. Your mouth hungrily found his that second time and his hand moved from your face and went down to grip your hip. 
For the most part, the movie became long forgotten, but there were some moments where you would abruptly pull away from Steve and claim that you two were “missing the good part of the movie,” and you’d force your attention back to that. It would always only be for a moment though, because before you knew it, you were back to looking at Steve and smiling at him and kissing his cheek or jaw or nose before eagerly finding his lips. 
Neither of you noticed when the credits started rolling. Your heads were against one of the pillows and legs were tangled beneath the two blankets that were over you both. One of your hands found home in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, and one of his hands had snaked underneath the hoodie and was squeezing your waist. 
You pulled back from the kiss, mainly to catch your breath, and Steve’s mouth immediately began attacking your jaw and then neck. You had to bite your lip for a second to keep from letting out any noise. “We’re probably giving your neighbors a very good show right now.” 
You felt Steve let out a laugh against your skin. “It’s a good thing that there are old married couples on both sides, so they’re all probably in bed asleep by now.”
You hummed in response. “Mm, that’s very good to know.”
You were about to pull back a bit so that you could then lean in and kiss him again, but then you managed to realize something and you turned your head toward the projector screen. “The movie’s over.”
“Oh,” Steve looked at the final credit screen that the movie ended on. “Good thing we’ve seen it before because I don’t think we watched any of it tonight.” 
You smiled at him. “Your face made it really hard to pay attention to the movie. I think we’ll need to go back to watching stuff on the phone in order for us to actually watch a movie.” 
“Never gonna happen,” He said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I don’t have my phone on me, but I think it’s probably almost ten. What time do I need to get you home?”
“Oliver luckily didn’t give me a curfew,” You jokingly answered, which made a soft laugh fall from Steve’s lips. “But, seriously, Natalie told me that she’s fine with staying at the house as long as I need. For some reason, she really likes sleeping in the guest room once Oliver’s in bed. Even though tonight he wants to try and stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop, so I don’t know when he’ll actually end up in bed.”
“Maddie’s trying to do the same thing at my parent’s house, but she’ll probably fall asleep before eleven, if she’s not already,” He said and that made you smile because you were pretty sure the same thing would happen with Oliver. Steve’s hand then found yours beneath the blanket and gave it a light squeeze. “So, we should…” 
“We should go inside,” You finished for him and quickly pressed a kiss to his nose before detangling yourself from him and standing up. “I can help you clean up all of this first if you want.”
“I’ll do it in the morning,” He said and you nodded at that as he stood up too.  
You didn’t mind leaving your shoes and coat outside for the time being, but you grabbed your phone from your purse so that you could check it and make sure that everything was going okay with Oliver. You immediately saw that Natalie texted you almost thirty minutes ago telling you that he fell asleep, which made you laugh a bit. You quickly texted something back to her and then placed your phone down on Steve’s kitchen island when you walked through the sliding doors that led from the backyard to the kitchen. 
Steve walked over to where you were leaning against the island. He slipped his hands underneath the hoodie of his that you were still wearing so that he could grab your hips, and your arms came up to lazily circle his neck. He was the one who initiated the kiss that time around.
How comfortable and okay you were right then and how completely comfortable you had been the entire night was something that slightly surprised you as much as it made you feel so fucking happy. It was hard not to recognize that this was the first time in a long time that you felt this way— and that should’ve made things feel at least a little scary; like they would’ve felt just a few weeks ago— but instead that realization gave you a small burst of confidence in that moment.
You pulled back a bit, eyes still shut and lips lightly brushing his. “Y’know, I really love that we’re already at your house.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” You nodded, eyes opening and then you stepped away from him and slipped your hand into his. You started leading him toward the stairs and you wondered if it was entirely obvious that you were heading to his bedroom. You already knew where it was because you had accidentally found it the first time you and Oliver came over for a playdate— you had been looking for the bathroom and mistakenly chose the door on the left instead of the right. “It makes this part a lot easier.” 
“What’s this part?” He asked and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
You turned to him when you were in front of his closed door. You gave him a look that said everything— everything you wanted from him right then and everything you wanted to give him— before reaching up and softly kissing his cheek. 
It was dark when you both walked into his bedroom and Steve flicked on the small lamp that was sitting on his nightstand. You were lingering by the foot of the bed and he once again closed all of the space between you two, his hands found the hem of the hoodie and immediately pushed it up and off of you. He slowed down when his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress. A questioning look that asked “Is this okay?” crossed his face, and you quickly nodded. Somehow the minor action sent an inadvertent shiver down your spine— Steve letting the red material fall to the floor and leaving you in just your strapless bra and underwear before softly pushing you down so that you were sitting on the bed. You started helping him unbutton his shirt so that he could push it off of his shoulders and let it hit the floor as well. 
Your hands then found his belt buckle, fumbling around with it and then proceeding to unbutton his pants and snake your right hand within them. Steve’s groan was loud and it sent a chill through your body as you touched him and felt him grow stiffer in his boxers due to all of your soft, teasing strokes. 
After just a moment, he reached for your hand, halting your movements, and then leaned down to kiss you, removing his pants in the process. Once he was left in just his navy blue boxers you maneuvered upward so that your head was hitting one of his pillows at the top of the bed and he settled on top of you between your now spread legs.
Steve’s lips brushed against your forehead and then cheek before he pulled back and simply looked at you. “You’re so fucking pretty.” 
You didn’t feel an ounce of nervousness under his gaze, which said and told you so much, and it actually felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest. 
“You’re not too bad yourself,” You whispered, tilting your head upward a bit so that your lips could meet his in a quick kiss. 
When your bra was discarded on the floor somewhere along with your underwear, you found yourself begging for him. Soft “pleases” fell from your lips as he teased you— softly rubbing your nipple in small circles and only stroking your inner thighs with the most featherlight of touches, getting so close to where you wanted him most. And feeling his hard length, which was still covered by his boxers, pressing against you only made your want grow more. You knew for a fact that you were making the worst mess against his comforter because of how much you were dripping for him.  
“Steve,” You let out a soft sigh, eyes screwed shut. “I need you. Please.”
“Mhm, yeah, anything for you,” He said, moving away from you for a second. Your eyes opened and you immediately missed his warmth enveloping you completely. He was ridding himself of his boxers and then began rummaging around in his nightstand drawer for a condom. 
You were smiling at him when he settled back on top of you and he gave you a small smile back. 
“You sure this is okay?” He asked, and you could hear the sudden shyness take over his voice. 
“Yes, I promise. I want this. I want you,” You told him, nodding profusely. He needed that reassurance and you completely understood why. Your voice was soft as you said your next words. “You sure this is okay?”
He pressed the softest kiss against your forehead. “So much better than okay.” 
For some reason, those simple words made your heart flutter wildly in your chest. He looked down for a second, lining his cock up with your soaked entrance, and then his eyes met yours again as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. 
“Fuck,” You wanted so badly to shut your eyes, but you also didn’t want to break his gaze. 
There was so much shared in the dreamy and lust-filled look you two were holding. You were hit with the sudden need to never have this to end. Not just the sex, but simply being with Steve— talking, laughing, playfully arguing as you debated random shit that didn’t matter. You wanted all of that with him for as long as you could have it. 
It was too early to even truly entertain the potential of a forever with him, but it was something that could happen and it was hard not to let your mind wander for a bit. 
You could see it all, and so easily too— your lives blending and becoming so deeply intertwined. You didn’t expect yourself to fall so goddamn hard for him so quickly, but it felt nice feeling so entirely certain about it all. 
“What are you thinking about, honey?” Steve whispered, breaking through your thoughts and eyes still looking so deeply into yours. He was still moving slowly but was also hitting so deeply inside of you with every languid thrust that it elicited the softest whines and mewls from you. 
“Everything,” You told him honestly, but didn’t explain further because you were then shutting your eyes and letting your mind turn to mush. A particularly hard thrust had your back arching off the bed and a gasp falling from your lips. “Shit, yes, right there.”
“I think about everything with you all the time,” Steve said, lips finding yours and swallowing the loud moans you let out upon hearing his words— right then, that was the only way that you could verbalize how much you loved hearing him say that. He started moving quicker, losing control inside of you, which you didn’t mind in the slightest because it only made you wetter. “I want it all so badly.”
You could feel yourself nodding at him, it still felt way too hard to open your eyes. “Me too.”
Your walls squeezed harshly around his cock when one of his hands snaked down to find your clit, rubbing it in tight circles with his thumb and almost immediately pushing you so close to the edge. 
“You gonna come for me, honey?” Steve asked with a groan and when you only mumbled out a barely coherent “yes” and “please,” he started circling your clit quicker before saying, “Do it. Come for me.”
It hit you so fucking hard. You were moaning loudly, practically screaming, as stars flooded your vision and your body almost immediately felt as if it was floating. How tightly you were squeezing Steve’s cock as you came only spurred on his own release, forehead dropping against yours as he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and spilled into the condom. 
Your lips haphazardly found his in a slow kiss as you both came down from your highs and your breathing returned mostly to normal.  His weight crushed you in the most peaceful way possible before he was slipping out of you and then pulling your back flush against his chest. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but with Steve’s arms around you in the most comforting way, you did almost immediately. 
When you woke up, it had barely been an hour and the only reason you knew that was because the TV was now on and the live New Year’s Eve special was playing. You got up to go to the bathroom and then slipped on Steve’s white button-up shirt, only buttoning a few of the buttons, before getting back in bed. 
“Hi,” You whispered, head settling against his chest and his arms immediately came up to circle around you. 
“Hey,” He whispered back and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You draped your leg over his hips to push yourself even closer to him. “Ten minutes to midnight. Should I take you home after?”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” You answered softly. “I wish I could stay.”
“Me too,” Steve said as one of his hands started lightly rubbing up and down against the curve of your hip. “One day, though.”
You smiled at that, tilting your head up a bit and kissing his jaw. “I can’t wait for that.”
Years down the road you’d both think back to this moment. 
When you’re laying in bed together in the house that you two moved into just weeks earlier, something bigger that would better fit your growing family. Oliver and Madeline would be fast asleep in their rooms down the hall from yours and their newborn sister would only be a few feet away from you and Steve, finally asleep in her bassinet. 
You’d be the one to bring up this night— how it was both the start of something and the end of something else— and he’d smile at you immediately and start absentmindedly playing with the ring on your finger. How it had been the start of a relationship that neither of you truly saw coming and how it brought a slow but steady end to the fears that both of you had. 
Steve would softly say that even though he’d been a little scared to tell you that night, he had known then— as he was dropping you off at your house close to one in the morning and softly kissing you goodnight on your doorstep— that he wanted to be with you forever. And you’d tell him that you had felt the exact same way, that you even ended up dreaming about it all that night like a lovesick teenager. 
That would make him kiss you, slowly and tenderly; something that never failed to make your head feel dizzy. 
Before you and him fell asleep too, just for a few hours before Luna woke both of you up, you would tell Steve that you were glad that Oliver and Madeline asked to have a playdate during that oddly warm day in September four years ago because that simple thing changed everything between you two. Your eyes would already be shut as you sleepily whispered how much you loved him and he’d smile while telling you that he loved you too. He’d then laugh a bit and say that it was the sleep deprivation making you extra sentimental right then but he was completely okay with that. His soft and sweet words of, “I’m also so glad that those playdates changed everything,” would be the last thing you remember hearing before you fully fell asleep, and it put the softest smile on your face.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
let me know ur thoughts<333
513 notes · View notes
yexthiccxa · 8 months
Text
The Angel With Horns Pt. 1
summary: you accept a teaching position at jujutsu high where you get to work with your childhood crush, suguru geto. unfortunately, that means you'll also have to work with your childhood nemesis, satoru gojo. are you going to rekindle new flames or potentially make new ones?
wordcount: 7.3k 🙃 (this is pt. 1 and it's four chapters long)
c/w: gojo/fem!reader, geto/fem!reader, gojo/oc, geto/oc, modern!au, teacher!au, smut, fluff & smut, some plot, plot what plot, flashbacks, timeskip, asshole!gojo, flirty!gojo, cocky!gojo, soft!geto, cousin!shoko, mutual pining, teasing, flirting, playful banter, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, sensual tension, sexual tension, pet names (angel), dry humping, fingering, oral, fantasizing, multiple orgasms, inappropriate use of cursed energy, inappropriate use of cursed techniques
a/n: eeeep. this is my first fanfic so feedback is welcome 🥺it’s a first person pov where the unnamed oc is meant to be the reader! Currently working on Part 2!
edit: just posted this part on ao3 if you'd rather read it there!
Tumblr media
✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦
Chapter 1: Reunited
It’s clear as day but my mind is fuzzy. There are thousands of thoughts surging through me, but all I can focus on is the pleasure filling my body. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve always wondered if this day would ever come. My hips are pinned against his counter. Arms stretching wide while my fingers grip his sink. My neck rolls back as the rays of light blind me from his window. 
In my head, I’ve spent countless hours wondering how it feels to have his body pressed against mine. Or how his breath hovers on my neck as he pulls me closer. His scent is undeniably sweet, but the way he handles me tells me that he’s everything but that.
“I always thought you were a good girl,” he growls in my ear, kissing his way down to my neck like it was never his to claim. “I never expected you to prove me wrong.”
I imagined how his kisses would consume me, how his touch would paralyze me, and how his moans would ignite me. But in all these years, I never imagined this entire fantasy would be with someone else instead.
✦✧✸✧✦
TWO WEEKS AGO
The clouds begin to subside as I walk through the familiar gates of Jujutsu High. The droplets of rain fade away and a strange mix of emotions hit my core. Today marks the beginning of my journey as a teacher here, but I can't stop myself from feeling a pang of anxiety. Amid the unease, there’s still a sense of comfort in returning to a place I once called home.
My footsteps echo softly on the hallway tiles as I make my way to room 3-A for orientation. The memories of my time as a student creep into my thoughts. It’s changed in many ways, but I find solace in knowing that there are still a few people here that I can lean on.
When I moved back to Tokyo and got the teaching position, Shoko mentioned that Suguru taught here as well. Memories of him invaded my thoughts. We were practically inseparable during our high school years, largely due to my close bond with Shoko. Wherever she was, I was sure to follow—our Ieiri blood may tell us we’re cousins, but I always thought of her as my sister. Her friends were always fun to be around. However, they constantly got into situations that always put me on edge. Shoko has always been such a free spirit, and while I adore her, I know her comfort zone far surpasses my own. Despite my lack of participation in their wild adventures, I surprisingly never felt left out or lonely.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Finding curses in abandoned hospitals sounds way cooler than studying curses… in a book,” I muttered to Suguru as I gestured to my pile of textbooks.
“How many times do we have to go over this? I’d rather practice my curse techniques here instead.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and lowered his face towards mine—his breath tickling my ear.
“Plus, taking care of you is a hell of a lot better than taking care of everyone else,” he chuckled.
“Who said you needed to take care of me?” I protested. He remained close, and I felt his mouth curve.
“I never said I needed to. I want to take care of you,” he whispered. A secret for only my ears to hear.
Throughout the years, I grew to love his playful laughter. It was soft, tinged with warmth and sincerity—though it always seemed to trail his jokes that slightly missed the mark. And his touch, though never sensual, always felt protective—like a wolf looking after its pack. The more I learned how sweet Suguru was, the deeper I fell in love. For years my guarded soul harbored this secret, and even if the world was ending, I swore to myself that I would never tell a soul. The "what ifs" often danced through my thoughts, but ignorant bliss always outweighed the risk of potential heartbreak.
My thoughts come to a halt as I turn a corner, and suddenly, I'm face-to-face with a towering presence. My breath catches, and my eyes instinctively trail up the contours of his strong frame. The world around me blurs for a moment, and my heart quickens. But before I can fully process the shock, a familiar voice calls out to me.
"Hey, there’s my girl! Did you realize the world wasn’t as great without me?" Suguru teases, his voice bringing back years of memories.
"Suguru!" I exclaim, a surge of excitement makes me toss my arms around him. My words tumble out eagerly, "If I was your girl, I probably would’ve never left." I laugh, though my heart races as curiosity causes his brow to rise. “I’m just kidding. Everything was great, but I’m glad to be back though." It may not have been the best save, but it’ll work for now.
My arms tighten ever so slightly, and I’m compelled to study him. His shoulders are still broad, yet somehow, they seem larger than I remember. His hair has grown longer, though he still keeps it partially tied. The chiseled contours of his jaw feel like steel against my skin, but his arms around waist are gentle and comforting. I notice that the morning gloom has officially cleared, because his beauty is bathed in sunlight. As we break away from our hug, his dark eyes meet mine with recognition and warmth, as if our time apart has only deepened our connection.
"Well, I’m glad it was good. I’ve missed you." he rumbles, his voice resonating like a soothing melody.
"Likewise," I reply with a warm grin, feeling a rush of nostalgia. "Will you be at orientation today?"
He explains that he has to help Yaga with some setup throughout the morning. I try not to let my smile drop, but he's quick to notice. Of course he notices, it's Suguru. Before I can even process my thoughts, he adds, "I have the same lunch break as everyone else though, let's catch up then? We can meet in the courtyard."
A surge of excitement washes over me, and I nod eagerly. "Sounds perfect," I reply. Feeling a newfound sense of confidence, I continue on my way to the orientation room. 
“I’ve missed you." his voice echoes through my mind. For a moment, I can't help but wonder, was he thinking about me the whole time I was gone? Why did he call me his girl? Does that mean he had feelings for me? No—stop, that can’t be. If he had feelings for me, he would've said something, right? But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
My stomach begins to flutter as a seed of hope is planted into my heart. The slightest possibility of Suguru's interest sends me to the moon. I know I’m not the same girl I was when we last saw each other. So maybe, just maybe, this is a sign.
As I head towards the room, my steps feel lighter than they've been in a long time. For once in my life, I can finally hope for something more. I finally believe that I…my heart sinks as I reach the door. 
Blocking my path is a figure I desperately hoped to avoid—the infamous Satoru Gojo.
Chapter 2: Repulsive
Much like Suguru, Satoru’s build overpowers me. His arms rest on the edge of the doorframe and I can see the contours of his bicep peek through his shirt. I take in a sharp inhale and reluctantly step forward. Satoru will not, I repeat, not get the better of me today. I hesitate for a moment, locking my eyes with his.
He peeks out from the edge of his sunglasses, and the corners of his lips begin to curl. I watch as pieces of his platinum hair barely brush the top of his rims, while others just fall short of his eyes. It’s been years, but those striking pools of blue remain etched in my memory. Swirls of azure, navy and cobalt fill my vision, but I stop myself before my gaze begins to linger.
I attempt to slip past him but find myself with no clear escape. As I contemplate my next move, I mutter a greeting through gritted teeth, "Satoru."
His smirk grows into the devilish grin that haunted my past. "Hey there, Angel,” he purrs. “No hello? Or how have you been?" His tone takes on a playful note, laced with a hint of something else—something I can't quite decipher.
I try my best to let the moment pass, but I’ve let this go on for far too long. I’m done ignoring his comments. “You know I have a real name right?” I bite back.
“But why switch it up now? You’ve always been my little angel,” he teases mockingly. 
“And you’ve always been a pain in my ass,” I reply, my stare unwavering.
“She fights back,” his brow rises in shock. “I like this new version of you. Keep it up.” His grip on the doorframe loosens and he turns to make his way into the room. 
I let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension of my grip escape through my fingers. As I regain focus, I notice Satoru has turned back, his face mere inches from my ear. His voice is smooth, like silk across my skin as he whispers, “I can be a pain in a lot of other places, but I promise it’ll feel good.” 
My eyes widen as my pupils darken. My mouth runs dry as he chuckles his way to the edge of the room.
Memories of my high school days with Satoru flood back into my mind. His words cut through me, but in a way more akin to pleasure than pain. A mix of emotions overwhelm me, but I ultimately scowl at the sight of him. While Shoko and Suguru have helped me blossom, Satoru has always been the thorn in my side.
“Come on Suguru, are you really going to stay with her again?” Satoru asked.
“It’s okay, just go without me. I’ll go with you next time,” Suguru replies. His arm raises to scratch the back of his head.
This is the last festival of the season; there won't be another chance. “Please just go. I’ll be fi—,” I uttered.
“Well, enjoy your time with the little angel,” Satoru calls out as he continues walking away.
He makes his way out of our view, and I turn to Suguru, “Why do you even call him your best friend? He’s kind of a dick.”
Suguru laughs. “When you go through some of the stuff that we have, you’ll see that there’s a bond that goes deeper than blood. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but it’s not an excuse. Don’t worry. I can talk to him.”
I can’t stop myself from smiling with adoration.
I quickly find an empty seat in the orientation room, my mind still buzzing. The comfort and familiarity of the school are now tainted by the presence of someone I had hoped to forget. It was stupid of me to think Suguru and Satoru would drift apart after all these years. As I gather up my resolve to remain close with Suguru, I accept that their connection means my path with Satoru will cross more often than I would like.
✦✧✸✧✦
A full morning of orientation reduces my brain to mush. The anticipation builds and all I can pay attention to is the clock ticking away. Yaga drones on about teamwork, collaboration, and trust – unsurprising, considering his history mentoring Suguru and Satoru. If he survived that, I’m sure being the principal is a piece of cake.
As the clock finally strikes noon, I gather my belongings and head for the door.
“Ms. Ieiri—one moment please,” Yaga calls to me, stopping in my tracks. He assembles the group of new hires and hands each one a folded letter. “This is for the afternoon sessions. On this sheet you’ll find…”
His words trail off and I find myself glancing at the clock again, hoping that Suguru hasn’t been waiting too long. Once we’re dismissed, I rush towards the courtyard.
While my legs carry me on autopilot through the halls, I take a moment to examine the letter. The paper feels coarse, the creases are weighted with importance, yet the ink is delicately placed. The overwhelming amount of information makes it clear that I'll have to review it once lunch is over. I scan the letter to find main items scheduled for the afternoon:
1pm: Mentor Session (Room 2-C)
2pm: Lesson Planning (Room 1-B)
3pm: Team Review (Room 1-B)
Seems simple enough. I approach the stairs leading to the courtyard, when my eyes catch the small section at the end of the letter:
Mentor Assignment: …
As I hurry, I fail to notice the uneven step at the halfway mark. My foot catches the edge and suddenly, I’m airborne. I feel the letter escape my fingertips. My heart leaps into my throat and the world starts to blur.
I reach for the railing, but my grasp barely holds. In the following moments, I find myself colliding with a figure. His hold is strong, bringing me comfort. I feel his fingers slowly cup my arms—they’re soft, tender, holding me with care. 
“Easy there,” he rumbles. “I got you,” his voice is low and radiates through my core. Suguru’s eyes lock onto mine and I feel the heat beginning to smolder. “I got you.” His words bounce through my head.
“Suguru. Sorry… I—” The words are impossible to make out.
“Don’t apologize,” Suguru smiles. “I like having you in my arms.” He adds a playful wink sending butterflies through my chest.
I hold his gaze and my body melts into his. Suguru and I have been close for years, but this time, it feels altered, deeper. It feels like the intensity of our connection is seeking something beyond friendship. We’re inches from each other and I wonder if he can hear my thoughts or feel my heart beat out of my chest. Time slows as I marvel at his smile. I let my mind wander just for a moment…
Suguru lowers, barely touching his lips against mine. He starts soft, planting kisses down my neck as he caresses my cheek. His touch trails to the rest of my body and delight surges within me. It's gentle, but I crave more. He bites my lip before slowly letting his tongue make his way inside my mouth.
Passion builds within me as one hand grips my hair and the other grabs my waist. When his fingers gently graze the small of my back, I writhe with pleasure, hoping he can’t feel the squeeze between my thighs. His taste is intoxicating—sending me into a fever that I can’t seem to break. 
I close my eyes and let his mouth take me.
“I’ve been waiting for you…” he breaks away to tell me. His voice is on the brink of losing control. “...for a very long ti—”
“Hello? Are you okay?” Suguru asks. My focus immediately returns. “I’ve been waiting for you, so I was heading back inside to make sure you were doing alright.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Yaga needed to give us this letter and—oh fuck. My letter.” 
He senses my worry and swoops me up in one solid motion, but I feel too weak to stand.
I turn to see that my letter has found its way in a puddle pooling at the edge of the steps. I rush down to grab it, but it’s already too late. While I can make out certain areas, the majority of it has smeared away. I bring my gaze towards bottom in hopes of making out some of the letters:
M..nt…. ….gnment: S…..u G…o
I pause—Suguru Geto. A knot hits my stomach and I’m waiting to identify whether this feeling is anxiety or joy.
I look up from the letter expectantly. “Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I ask.
“Yeah, it is! It’s nice being paired with someone you know. It’ll be just like old times.” His words are the only confirmation I need.
✦✧✸✧✦
Although the years have passed, it feels like Suguru and I have never skipped a beat. I miss the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way a strand of hair always manages to fall even when it’s tied. I could spend hours looking into his eyes and hearing all of his adventures and how he’s mastered his curse techniques. 
The minutes go on and the end of our lunch hour approaches. Suguru frowns as he glances at his watch, and offers an apologetic smile. "I have to head out a bit early. Yaga needs some help before the mentor sessions start," he explains.
I nod understandingly, though I can't help but feel disappointed. "No problem, I’ll see you in a bit?"
He grins, those familiar eyes twinkling with warmth. "Definitely, I’ll see you later!" He gives me a hug and we part ways.
With a sway in my step, I find myself standing before the door of 2-C—but it’s locked. I scan the hallway to see if anyone can help, but there’s no one in sight. I grab my phone to text Suguru for help, but fate has other plans.
Before I can send the message, a familiar presence creeps up behind me. The weight of his aura envelops me. His body feels warm, yet somehow my blood runs cold. With a key in hand, he moves to unlock the door.
A gasp escapes my lips, and I feel the tension build around us. My heart races as I hear a voice, a soft whisper that ignites my soul.
"Hey there, angel," the voice purrs. "Were you looking for me?"
I let out a deep breath to release the fury that boiled inside of me. “As a matter of fact, no. I wasn’t looking for you… Satoru.”
Chapter 3: Reinforcements
It takes me a second, but it finally registers. The letter didn’t actually say Suguru Geto. It was supposed to say Satoru Gojo. Suguru’s voice rings though my head:
“Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I try to recall. I guess I didn’t explicitly mention a name.
“Yeah, it is!” Damn it, why didn’t I say his name?
“It’s nice being paired with someone you know.” My body feels heavy as my soul fills with dread.
“It’ll be just like old times.” The world begins to spin around me.
I walk through the door without looking at Satoru and head straight for the windows on the other side of the room. The room itself is quite small, just large enough to fit a blackboard, a full teacher’s desk, and three smaller desks for the students. There’s a bit of extra room to spare, but none of it is enough to keep me away from Satoru.
In the reflection of the window, Satoru props himself against the larger desk, his long arms draped behind him. His smirk tells me he's completely at ease, as if he enjoys torturing me this way. “Not who you were expecting?”
I hold my response and continue staring out the window. I suspect he can read my discomfort.
His footsteps are quiet, but I feel them reverberate behind me. The air from the window feels cool, but it fades when his body radiates against mine. He leans down, bringing his hands around my sides. As he places them on the window sill, I can feel his face inch closer to mine. He’s too close for comfort but I can’t bring myself to push him away.
“With a bit more time, angel, you’ll see that I’m full of surprises.” I can feel the rumble in his throat as he speaks. “That is…if you’re willing to find out.”
My face turns hot and my thighs tighten. I may hate Satoru, but there’s something about his charm that feels irresistible. After years of dealing with him, I thought I’d get used to it. But this doesn’t feel like the same Satoru I used to know.
His arms are still placed on either side of me, but I swat him away, “Don’t you have better things to do than to tease me?” My brow rises. “Maybe… actually mentoring me?”
He lifts his arms in defense, “Hey angel, sorry if I’m coming on a little strong. I’m just having some fun.” He nudges my arm, and the force leaves me unsteady. “For old times’ sake.”
I roll my eyes and take a seat at one of the smaller desks.
“Plus, I’m not big on mentoring,” he adds. “Yaga has me doing this because I owe him for saving my ass on the last mission. Luckily he assigned me to you, and we both know you’re more than capable of doing this job without my help. It’s always been like that.”
“Oh how sweet. Is this your way of complimenting me?” I tease. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to give in that easily.
“What do you mean? I always give you compliments.”
“Calling me angel doesn’t count,” I sneer.
“Would you like me to call you princess instead?” He curled into a self-assured smile.
I blush, trying to bite back a chuckle. I lied, this is the same old Satoru. “So are you going to keep making up names, or are you actually going to teach me something?”
He brings himself close, his face stopping just short of mine. “I can teach you a lot of things, angel.”
I let out a sigh, “I’m serious, Satoru.”
“Fine, if you insist.” My curiosity is piqued as he props himself up and heads for the blackboard. 
“Lesson number one: If you ever want me, don’t want me,” he smirked.
I drop my shoulders and let out a sigh, but he continues.
“I’m serious! Lesson number two: If you ever need me…”
I finish his sentence, “Don’t need you?” His smile confirms my thoughts. “What’s number 3, Gojo-senpai?” My eyes plead as I pout in an attempt to mock him.
He seems uneasy. “Don’t do that,” he quickly snaps back, and I straighten up. “And now, lesson number three, the most important one: If you ever need my help, learn how to help yourself first.”
With a hint of sarcasm, I reply, “Wow, what a wonderful lesson. I’ve learned so much.” I gather my belongings and prepare to leave. “I think I'll just ask Yaga to assign me to someone else.”
He steps closer, blocking my path before I can fully rise from my seat. "No, wait. Don't do that,” he implores, his gaze earnest. “Can you stick it out for a little while? Just until this mentorship period ends. I need to get through these two weeks so Yaga won't make me do this again next year.”
I force my way up and scoff in his face, “Why on earth would I do that? What the hell have you done in these last few hours or even the last ten years that would make me put in a good word for you?” My volume increases. “You constantly tease me, you’ve never helped me, and—”
“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he murmurs.
“Excuse me?” My voice remains elevated from the anger.
“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he repeats firmly.
“Oh,” I pause as my voice settles. “Why would you do that?”
“For someone so smart, you ask the silliest things. It’s obvious you like him, angel.” 
My cheeks heat, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his penetrating gaze.
“It’s been obvious…for years—at least to me,” his voice softens. "And I promise, if you put in a good word for me, I'll help you with Suguru. No tricks, no games. Do we have a deal?" He extends his hand, waiting for my response.
This deal seems too good to be true. I try to figure out what the catch is, but nothing comes to mind. Unlike before, his gaze feels genuine and his smile seems sincere. I take a deep breath, preparing for a leap of faith. For the first time in my life, I guess I’m going to have to trust Satoru.
I reach for his hand, allowing a confident smile to grace my lips. “Deal.”
✦✧✸✧✦
Although this is not how I pictured my first couple of weeks back in Tokyo, this alliance isn’t as terrible as I thought. At the end of our work days, Satoru and I hang back in Room 2-C for our “mentoring” sessions. We spend 1% of the sessions on actual work, and the other 99% on dating. I tell him that it’s been a while since I’ve dated, and Satoru jumps at the opportunity to refresh me on the art of flirting.
 "Alright angel—you’ve known Suguru for a while, but I’m guessing like you only ever interact with him as a friend. Try starting…” he picks up his hand to graze the side of my arm, fingers lightly dragging towards my wrist.  “...with light touches. Make sure you maintain eye contact and smile genuinely." His voice is velvet and slow.
A shiver runs through me, and my mouth goes dry. I clear my throat. "Light touches, like this?" I laugh hesitantly. I try to mimic his advice, but it’s nowhere near as gentle as his.
Satoru chuckles. "Close, but you’re too tense. Just relax a little bit."
I soften my touch and continue to brush my fingers up his arm. As I slowly pull him towards me, our eyes lock and I’m immediately mesmerized. There’s a flutter in my core and it turns into desire. There’s an ache between my thighs, and moisture begins to form.
“That’s it,” he purrs as he leans towards me. “Just like that.” The pull of his voice is a magnet that continues to bring me closer. My heart races while the quickness in my breath trails slowly behind.
I close my eyes and let my cravings take control.
Satoru rests his thumb on the edge of my lip while the rest curl under my chin. He tilts my head and slowly whispers, “And that is exactly what you should do…” His voice perks back up to his normal tone. “...when you’re flirting with Suguru,” he smiles.
I shoot my eyes open and straighten up. What the hell was I thinking? Was I seriously trying to kiss Satoru? I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Wait…no, stop that. Something must be wrong, my wires are completely crossed. I shake it off to rid myself of the residual shame.
Shoko braided my hair like she’s done a million times before. “Hey, who do you think is cuter, Suguru or Satoru?” she posed out of curiosity.
“Hmm, that’s so hard. You know they're both hot.” I laughed. “If we’re going purely off of looks, probably Satoru. Sometimes I hate him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t cute. I think it’s the eyes.” 
“Yeah,” she replies with a hint of dejection in her voice. “I think so too.” I knew what was coming, but I could tell she had trouble getting it out. “Would you be mad if I asked him out?”
I pulled away for just a moment, “Oh my god, go ahead! Don’t worry about me. Suguru is still cute, plus he’s way nicer to me anyways.”
She paused for a moment, then threw her arms into a hug, “You’re the best.”
I smiled back and returned her embrace. “Okay, now finish doing my hair.”
✦✧✸✧✦
During these last two weeks the only times I see Suguru are during our lunch breaks. His schedule is hectic, but I can see that he makes the time for me—even though I know he doesn’t have any. I use these moments to practice some of the things I’ve learned from Satoru. Light touch, eye contact, genuine smiles.
I’ve touched Suguru’s arm, stared into his eyes, and laughed at his jokes many times before, but it was never like this. This time, all of my actions are bold, assertive, and confident. It’s no surprise that Satoru is a master of charm, but I didn’t expect him to be a decent teacher as well. Come Monday, he’ll be happy to know that Yaga will get glowing reviews for his mentorship.
For today’s lunch, Suguru and I are sitting on the courtyard steps, inches away from where he caught me just two weeks before. He has a look on his face that I haven’t seen before. I can tell something is on his mind by the way his brow furrows and his smile drops.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.
“I was—” he pauses, then retracts. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”
“Come on, Suguru. You can tell me,” I place my hand on top of his.
He smiles, and I can tell my assurance has calmed him down. “I just found out that I’m leaving for a mission next week, and I won’t be back for a few days.”
“Oh,” I reply, a pang of disappointment lingers in my tone.
“I was wondering…” he starts. “Did you maybe want to hang out or something before I leave?” A nervous grin crosses his face before he adds, “Like outside of work?”
I perk up at his proposal. “Of course! I would love that. When were you thinking?”
“I know it’s last minute, but maybe… tomorrow night? It’s okay if you’re bu—”
Cut him off before he has the chance to ramble. I reply with, “I would love to.”
Our lunch continues and the conversation shifts between current events, life updates and playful banter. I learn that Suguru still prefers staying in over going out, he’s got a new obsession with cooking, and his hair care routine is a lot more involved than I thought. As he speaks, I can’t help but admire him and the person he’s become.
When we prepare to part ways, Suguru confirms our plans for the weekend, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Meet at my place around 7?” Grinning as he inputs his address into my phone.
“I’ll see you there,” I return a smile and hug him before I leave. The feeling of his touch is perfect.
Chapter 4: Reckless
The workday ends and I make my way to the usual room for my last mentoring session with Satoru. As I walk in, he notices the stupid grin plastered on my face. “You look a little chipper today, angel. What’s up? Excited that you’re no longer forced to spend with me?”
“Well, yes,” I laugh. “But also… Suguru asked me to hang out tomorrow tonight. I’m going to meet him at his place,” I fight to contain my excitement.
Satoru’s brow lifts with intrigue, “If you wanted an invite to come over, you could’ve just asked me.”
Confusion clouds my brain. “Excuse me?” I ask.
“He didn’t tell you we were roommates?”
The clouds dissipate when I realize what’s going on. “No he didn’t. I guess it makes sense though.” The thought of Satoru joining in on our date fills me with unease. “You won’t be there right?” I clarify.
“You can relax, I’m meeting up with someone too. No need to worry about me barging in on whatever “activities” you two plan on doing,” air quoting as he takes a seat at the desk in front.
“Satoru, stop. You don’t even know if that’s gonna happen,” I argue.
“You’ve spent ten years drooling over this man, and you finally get a chance to spend some time with him in his apartment…alone.” he starts. “I don’t know about you, angel, but that sounds like a recipe for sex to me.” He leans back towards the blackboard and places his arms behind his head. A smug look sweeps his face.
“Well, yeah I guess… but it’s more so…” I hesitate, struggling to find the words to say. The thought of Suguru and I being intimate has always crossed my mind, but I can't believe it might actually happen.
“Oh I get it… There’s no reason to be nervous. Sex is sex,” he interjects. “Plus, if he’s the one who initiated the date, I’m sure he’ll enjoy whatever happens, sex or no sex.”
He makes a good point, but I still feel unsure. Before I have the chance to stop myself, I blurt out, “Do you know what he’s into…like when it comes to sex? Do guys even talk about that stuff to each other?” The regret immediately slips through my lips.
Satoru gets up from his seat and brings his hands to my shoulders—a gesture of comfort I’ve never seen from him before. “He’s my best friend, I know everything about him,” he assures me. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”
“Can you just tell me? Please?” I playfully beg, placing my hands on top of his.
Something about my question changes his demeanor, like he’s been waiting for it all along. The air shifts and suddenly I feel a rush of heat. Satoru drops one of his hands while the other drags across my chest. He begins to circle me, walking slowly, like a lion with its prey. In a situation like this, his towering presence would normally intimidate me, but something this feels different. I'm not feeling fear; instead I feel secure, fascinated, and curious about what lies ahead.
He makes his way behind me and I can feel him lower his head towards mine. “I can tell you…” he whispers, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. “But do you want me to show you instead?” His words send shivers to my spine. 
He retrieves something from his pocket and places it into my hand. It’s a long piece of fabric, similar to the one he uses to wrap his eyes. My mind spins—stuck between the logic in my head and the cravings of my body. I hesitate for a moment, but the weight of my desire defeats me. “Yes. Please,” I say softly, as I wrap the cloth around my eyes.
“Perfect.” He ties the back securely, and I feel his touch tilt my head toward him.
I let out a breath and part my lips. Our lips touch, locking just for a moment before he briefly pulls away.
“I think for your benefit, and definitely mine, I’m going to keep my limitless on. That way it’s purely informational and you won’t feel a thing,” he says.
And just like that, an invisible barrier forms between us. While his touch is subdued, I still feel the heat hovering between us. The closer I try to get to him, the more I feel his body vibrate against mine—like magnets trying to repel. Damn it, Satoru. He might not feel a thing, but I… I still feel everything.
In my mind, I do my best to recall every part of Suguru from memory. I try seeing his face and emulating his touch. As the pieces of Suguru form, a clear image of him floods my brain.
I can feel his touch as Satoru moves up from my waist and beneath the hem of my shirt. He continues up to cup my breast and I can sense his kisses on my neck. They’re soft and muted, but the sensation still gives me chills. His breath is hot as his mouth works his way up to nibble my ear. I can feel his throat rumble when Satoru continues his lesson, “Do you want to know what Suguru is like?”
I nod. In my mind, Suguru’s dark eyes ease their way shut as he takes in my scent. His strands of hair brush against my shoulder as he continues to plant kisses down my neck.  
“Suguru is a lover—always takes care of his women,” Satoru purrs as he rubs his thumb over my breast. The friction against my nipple sends a jolt of euphoria through my chest. “Do you want to see how he’ll take care of you?” he asks.
My body tenses and I feel a rush of liquid between my thighs. I roll my head back onto his shoulder and hum with pleasure. My breath is labored, I can barely speak. “Show me,” I manage to let out.
“Well to start, he’d make sure your lips never go hungry.” Satoru slowly turns me around while his kisses move to my lips. His lips are soft, smooth as he takes me in.
The intensity rises as his kisses become needy. Using his hands to grip my ass, he leans me on the edge of the desk behind me. Shock fills my body and I can feel his tongue finding its way inside my mouth. Waves of his cursed energy flow through me. It’s powerful—commanding my fingers to lock into his hair. I pull him closer, imagining Suguru's weight crashing into me.
As the ache between my legs intensifies I ask, “What else would he do?”
“He’d work his way up your leg… past your skirt…” he slowly whispers. “And find your clit. Just to make sure she’s happy too.” His fingers travel to my panties, stopping just above my slit. He uses thumb to rub the cloth, and the trembles of his limitless cause me to moan. I roll back and forth, grinding against his hand, desperate for more. My moans are endless and slowly amplify every time the pressure increases.
When he realizes I’m enjoying myself, he runs his fingers along the edge of my panties. I whimper, wondering when he can put an end to this torture. I crave him so badly, I crave the feeling of him inside me—anything to help me find release. He finally gives in and slides my underwear to the side. As his touch grazes against my folds, I picture how good it would feel to have Suguru’s large hands cupping my center.
Satoru picks up on my thoughts and continues feeding my fantasy, “While he teases your pussy, Suguru would tell you that you’re already soaking wet…” The thought has me dripping more liquid onto his fingers. I feel his mouth curl into a smile and he whispers, “...but we’re only getting started.”
His fingers thrust inside me and I can feel the magnitude of his hands as my walls tighten around him. The thrill from his fingers barreling into me stun every inch of my body. I can feel my thighs clenching on the brink of release. His fingers find the sensitive spot within my walls and his mouth claims every spot on my body. His kisses become ravenous, like he can’t get enough. The more he devours me, the more he leaves me breathless.
I can hear him groan in delight and I notice the way his bulge presses against me through his pants. The desperation only makes him harder.
As the intensity grows, I cry for more. “Oh Suguru, just like that.”
“Do you like that, angel?” His pace remains steady as the sensation of cursed energy collects into his fingers. They continue to push against the insides of my center until I can’t take it anymore. The rhythmic motion leaves me breathless and I feel my body racing to its peak.
“Ugh, Suguru, fuck…that feels—”
“Does he make you feel good?” His voice feels heavy, like a low growl.
“Y—, ugh, ye—” I can’t form words through the pounding of his hand. He’s rapidly sending me to the edge and I’m ready to fall. “Suguru, you’re going to make me come.”
“Yes, angel.” Satoru says, before planting his lips onto mine. “Come for him.” 
Those words are enough to break me. The orgasm flows through my body and I feel myself beat around his fingers. His pace slows, but the sensual touch only brings more gratification. The thought of Suguru sending me into ecstasy leaves my body light, and my mind clear. The waves slowly subside and I feel myself resurrect. 
My hands head for the wrap on my eyes, but I hear Satoru whisper, “We’re not done yet, angel.”
I follow his lead and let the rumble of his voice bring me back into my dreams.
“Did you think Suguru would stop there?” he teases. “If there’s anyone he’d take special care of, it would be you.”
I feel his fingers slide out of me and I hear him lick the tips. “You taste so good.”
The words release a flutter in my core. I’m immediately enraptured and can’t help but crave more.
“Suguru would love this,” he starts. “Would you let him taste you too?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
I imagine Suguru’s strength as his hands cup my waist and he lifts me up on the desk. When I lean back, I feel him lift my shirt, exposing my breasts. “You’re so god damn beautiful.” His tongue licks my nipple before fully taking it into his mouth, giving it a playful tug.
“Please, I want you to taste me,” I plead. Liquid gushes out of me, giving him a good dose to start.
“As you wish, angel.” He bends down to hover his mouth over my center. I feel him linger before he adds, “Do you know what else Suguru likes to do?”
“Tell me,” I whisper.
“He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry,” he growls, letting his mouth devour my clit. The vibrations from his limitless amplify the sensation, and I’m on the verge of losing control. 
My body goes numb as his words echo through my head. He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry. I let out a moan, but it feels more like a cry. I completely unravel, feeling the tides of my orgasm come back to shore.
“Oh my god, Suguru. That feels so good. Don’t stop,” I cry.
As he continues to glide over me, I throw my head back and writhe in pleasure. His tongue goes up and down my center in a harmonious rhythm, and I’m so close to feeling ecstasy. His mouth on my lips may have felt needy, but his mouth on my pussy feels absolutely desperate. The ripples of his limitless accompany the motions and bring me to my limit. As he plants his hands on my thighs, I immediately crumble.
I melt into my orgasm as my legs tense up around him, squeezing him towards me. I picture Suguru’s hands gripping my thighs while he moans back in delight. My breath is quick, my heartbeat is unsteady. The muscles inside me contract and pulsate all over his tongue. He has me slick and he licks up every bit of the liquid that trickled from me.
“And that, my little angel… is a little taste of what you can expect from Suguru Geto,” Satoru chuckles.
I relax my legs and I feel one last kiss grace my center. I lay for a moment, feeling both lifeless, yet satiated. The thought of Suguru between my thighs still lingers in my mind.
“That was amazing, Suguru,” I breathed quietly.
As I sit up, my head is in a fog. I feel my brain spin for a moment. What just happened? Did I just have a wet dream about Suguru? Wait, no. Was it Satoru? It takes me a minute to recollect myself. Although I could see Suguru vividly in my mind, I remember that he wasn’t the person in the room. Anxiety surges throughout my body when I’m faced with the reality of what occurred.
I hear the door click, and rush to take off the wrap around my eyes. “Satoru, can we ta—”
To my dismay, there is no one else in the room. I see the blackboard behind me, the desk that seats me, three smaller desks in front of me, but Satoru is nowhere to be found.
Tumblr media
Read Part 2 Here!
728 notes · View notes
imisscherryboy-blog · 6 months
Text
running back 2 u
enemies to lovers - football player. ajax x sports med! gn reader
part 1, part 2
spotify playlist (it's good i swear)
story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven't been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.
notes: SMUT, enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, part 3/3, gn reader, ajax is bi (since it's gn), alhaitham and kaveh are gay, california coded
smut tags: first time, dom ajax, penetration, oral fixations, praise, pet name use, protected sex, oral (we get head), bruising, rough sex, after care
side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh),
warnings: mature themes!!, themes of sexual harassment (not described), drugs, alcohol, smoking, swearing
★ part 3 (last part) ★
Tumblr media
ajax came back down with the tylenol and tossed it to you. you caught it and took out two pills.
“water?” you looked at him with a deadpan expression.
“you have cereal milk right in front of you.” he responded with a look that would make anyone want to punch him in the face. you scoffed and took the tylenol dry. it was about 8 am now, and alhaitham came down the stairs.
“you’re still here.?” he asked as he made his way over to the box of cereal.
“someone (you looked at ajax) didn’t let me leave.” you responded.
“…what the hell man let her leave.” he said as he poured out the cereal.
“we uber’d here, ajax offered to drop us once kaveh wakes up.” you responded.
“that’ll probably be a while.” alhaitham nonchalantly said, taking another bite of his cereal.
“it won’t!” you heard kaveh yell from upstairs. it seemed like he was getting his stuff together. you sighed, you just wanted to go home. it would take a minute for the tylenol to actually work, and at that point, your headache was still pretty bad. ajax was on his phone, most likely waiting for kaveh to come downstairs.
“oh, by the way. i’m taking kaveh to homecoming.” alhaitham said. you and ajax both questioned him in unison. “is there something wrong..?”
“yeah- what am i supposed to do??” ajax asked.
“what, you don’t have a date?” you asked teasingly.
“i— not yet- but i will!” he said, clearly pissed off. “we were supposed to hang out!”
“i know, i’m sorry. just happened. i’m sure you’ll find someone.” alhaitham reasoned. “just take y/n with you.”
your face involuntary heated up as you both shouted ‘no’. alhaitham was a funny guy.
“y/n, do you even have a date?”
you paused for a moment, weighing your options. you did in fact have a date. he was some scrawny kid in your english class. he wasn’t bad, but obviously not ideal. it was your senior year and you wanted to say you went to homecoming with someone. if you did say yes, you knew ajax would be jealous; seeing as though he didn’t even have a date in the first place.
“yeah, i do.”
“huh?” ajax said. you had him hook, line, and sinker.
“something wrong?” you asked smirking.
“n-no.” he stammered and just let it go. you had won that one fair and square. just then, kaveh finally came down the stairs.
“well it looks lively down here.” he stated, putting his things on the counter.
“i’ll drop you guys.” alhaitham said, dropping his dish into the sink.
“nuh uh, i said i would.” ajax reasoned.
“you drank last night.” alhaitham stated. alhaitham didn’t drink.
“i slept it off.” he responded.
“you can’t sleep off alcohol bud. i’ll take them.” and just like that, alhaitham grabbed his tesla keys and headed for the door. kaveh said bye to ajax while you just left.
you and kaveh got in the car, kaveh sitting passenger while you sat in the back.
“where are we going?” alhaitham asked kaveh.
“my house, y/n’s car is parked there.” kaveh responded. alhaitham just nodded and left, kaveh giving occasional directions.
“so.. homecoming.” you interjected.
“yeah.. about that.” kaveh started before you told him you already knew.
“well, you’re free to come with us!” kaveh said.
“mm.. you guys aren’t really his crowd. don’t worry about it kaveh. i’ll catch you at the after party.” you said. you felt a little bad, but you weren’t expecting kaveh and alhaitham to really even happen. your logic pinned it on ajax for tearing his acl.
you arrived at kaveh’s house and said bye to alhaitham before going inside to get your keys. inside, kaveh stood by the doorway.
“you’re not mad about me going to hoco with alhaitham.. right?”
“no—kaveh, if anything i’m happy for you. you’ll have a lot of fun, trust me.” you brushed it off, making your way to the door.
“okay, i’ll see you at school then.”
“yeah.” you said as you left his house and got into your car. you waved to him from the car and backed out of the driveway, starting for your house. you felt bad, and you could tell kaveh did too, but there really wasn’t much you could do. after all, homecoming was next week.
the week went by normal. you only saw ajax in passing, he’d stare at you, then look away. he never tried to talk to you. after all, the party was probably the most you two ever talked in a while, and you honestly would be okay to keep it that way—but something in you really doubted that.
homecoming arrived, it was on a saturday at 7pm. kaveh told you that you both could meet up after it was over to find a party to go to, but you highly doubted that would happen. not with alhaitham in the picture. you dressed up, almost over dressing, but just enough to stand out. it was your last homecoming, so you might as well make it a good one. it felt different not being able to get ready with kaveh, like you usually would. but you didn’t let it bother you as you got a text from your date, saying he was outside.
looking your very best, you walked out of the door to see your date—in probably the ugliest car you’ve seen. it was a jacked up camry, with scratches and dents on the side. suddenly, you wished you just took your car there. the night was off to a great start!
the two of you got to the venue, it was beautiful to say the least. it was a hall, just right next to the water. the lights illuminated the water, giving a faint glow to bay. the sun was almost set, painting the sky a hue of blue and purple. you stared at the moon, it was fairly bright. admiring it, you stared at it for a couple more seconds before being snapped out of it by your date.
“my friends are already inside.”
“oh. okay.” you said. he wasn’t much of a talker. you both walked in, noticing the amount of people already there. you felt people staring at you. you couldn’t tell if it was because you looked good, or you went to hoco with an absolute loser. you scanned the room for kaveh and alhaitham, and spotted them near the bar. once kaveh saw you, his jaw dropped, supposedly at how good you looked.
“you look so good, y/n.” kaveh said giving you a hug.
“thanks kaveh, you too.” you smiled. you noticed him glaring at your date.
“well, i’ll see you later, okay?” he said, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “don’t have too much fun without me.” you nodded and left with your date. you waved to alhaitham, using it as a chance to look for ajax. he was no where to be found.
for the next hour, you couldn’t help but watch the entrance to the hall. your date was practically with his stem friends the entire time, only asking you if you wanted something to drink. you said no every time. sitting on the folding chair, you waited. you didn’t know exactly what you would do if you saw him, but you continued to watch the door, until your date rudely interrupted you.
“waiting for someone?”
“no..”
“okay.” and just like that, he left. you looked back to the door and saw none other than ajax. you cursed your date for taking your focus away from the door. he was wearing his hair slicked back with a small strand in the front. he had a black-silk button up on, with the first three buttons undone (whore). the silver chain undoubtedly brought the whole fit together. unlike the times you’d pass each other in the halls, he spared you no glance. this time, he was with a brunette haired girl on the cheer team. big shocker, you thought to yourself. you quickly got up and joined your date with his friends, still looking at ajax and the girl he was with. your date’s friends just gave you a weird look and continued talking. every time you would sip your drink, you’d sneak in a quick glance.
narrowing your eyes, you noticed that the girl he was with.. looked drunk? you thought maybe the pre-gamed? but ajax looked perfectly sober, in fact he looked almost annoyed. you would pretend to look busy with your date, then look back at ajax. he was now with alhaitham and some of his other friends. his date stuck to his arm, though. she looked far too gone for anyone sober to actually tolerate.
what you didn’t notice, was alhaitham telling kaveh that he kept noticing ajax’s eyes wandering back to you. god bless alhaitham for being the middle man. but that news wouldn’t get to you until far later.
for now, you babysat your drink, until the lights started to dim. ugh, it was slow dancing time. at that point, you and your date, alongside his friends all sat at a table. you sat next to your date. you could feel his eyes boring into you, knowing he was gonna ask to dance. you really didn’t want to. you tried looking for ajax again, noticing he was gone. you felt a nudge on your arm.
“wanna dance?” his face got closer and closer as you got further and further.
“um..” you said, reeling back. he was not getting the hint by any means. all of a sudden, he leaned in for a kiss. you immediately pushed him off of you, standing up and walking away. that was your breaking point. this homecoming could not have been any worse. you’ve spent the entire time just spying on people and pretending to look interested in whatever the hell your date’s friends were going on about. you wished you’d never told ajax and alhaitham you had a date. you wished you were just with kaveh.
like clockwork, japanese denim by daniel ceaser starts playing as you’re heading for the exit. what great timing. you pushed the door open and were met with a cold breeze. it was freezing, but you didn’t care. as long as you were away from everyone for some time, you were happy. kaveh and alhaitham were probably dancing the night away. you found a bench outside near the hall and sat down. the waves of the bay behind you calmed you down a little. but you could help but shake the fact that your last homecoming was a mess.
“well someone looks like they had a shitty hoco.” the guy you’d been stalking for the past hour was now right behind you. (he was doing the same thing so dw) you turned around to see ajax leaning against a wall, next to the bench you were sitting at. how did you not see him?
“yeah. why’re you here?” you stumbled over your words a little, not expecting him to be here at all.
“shitty date, shitty day.” he tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his shoe.
“smoking outside of the school event is crazy.” you said laughing.
“i told you, it’s medicine.” he said sarcastically. the faint chorus of the daniel ceaser song could be heard from all the way outside. “can i sit?”
“i guess.” you said, trying to keep up the cold front. it didn’t really work, but you figured you’d at least try. after all, you guys hated each other. he took the spot next to you, and stared off into the distance.
“so.. who were you with?” he cut straight to the chase.
“what’s it to you?”
“it physically hurts to see someone so good looking with some fuck ass loser.” well that was harsh. well, anyone that tries to force themselves onto someone deserves that title.
“you’re saying i’m good looking?” you laughed, knowing he’d come up with some stupid excuse. instead, he nodded his head and just looked away. you could’ve sworn you were seeing things.
“anyway, you going anywhere after this?” he asked, lighting another cigarette.
“no, i don’t think so.”
“kaveh said you were going party hopping?”
“i highly doubt it.”
when you two went back and forth, having a normal conversation, it felt like old times. it made you feel like you were talking to your best friend of years. and ultimately, that’s what you guys could’ve been, but it never was.
“what a waste of a lovely night..” he said to himself, looking up at the sky above him.
“was that a la la land reference?” you asked, laughing.
“maybe.” he smiled at you.
“you’re still a movie nerd?”
“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” he laughed. it went quiet for a second until you finally decided to ask.
“so, what happened with your date?” you asked.
“i felt like i was babysitting teucer the entire time. didn’t want that to be how i remembered my last homecoming.”
“i get that.” you responded.
it was quiet for a couple seconds again until he took the cigarette out of his mouth and had it in between his fingers.
“you wanna ditch this place?” you almost didn’t believe what he was saying.
“anywhere is better than here right now.” you admitted. even if you ‘hated’ ajax, you’d rather be somewhere else.
“kaveh won’t get mad?”
“i’ll let him know.”
and just like that, ajax took his keys out of his pocket and twirled it around his finger.
“where to?”
“anywhere.” you said.
“you got it.” he got up and made his way to the parking lot. you followed closely behind him, suddenly getting hit with the relentless ocean air.
“cold?” he asked.
“i’m fine.” you lied.
you opened the passenger seat to his car and sat down. he reached into the back and grabbed a hoodie that had his number (11) and the logo of your highschool. he threw it onto your lap without a word. you defeatedly put the hoodie on, fitting a little too big for your usual size. but it did the job. he started the engine, and it immediately began to get warm.
“you said anywhere, right?”
minutes passed rather quickly as the two of you just reminisced on past memories of middle school. he didn’t feel like ajax the school whore, but he genuinely felt like your best friend again. it was undeniable that it felt a little more than that. you really had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him. and he needed you.
after about twenty minutes, you pulled into the driveway of a large lake house. it was gorgeous to say the least. you knew ajax had money, but damn did you not realize the extent of that. you recalled he has mentioned this house a couple times, but you never actually saw it until now.
“this isn’t even the best part.” he said, turning off the engine, and getting out of the car. he seemed like a little kid again. he took you to the back of the house which was the lake. it was dark and still cold, but something about it didn’t bother you. you and ajax looked out into the large lake, the moon shining down on the water, creating the appearance that someone dumped glitter into the water. needless to say, it was beautiful. he sat on the sand, and you sat next to him.
“i remember you talking about this house.”
“yeah.. i’d come here every summer.”
“not anymore?” you asked to which he nodded his head.
“family shit. it’s not fun anymore.” he stated, looking off into the water. “when i tore my acl, i realized i’ve just been taking everything for granted.” he sighed.
you simply listened to him rant.
“i don’t know, it just feels like i keep hanging onto things that make me happy for two seconds, then moving on and finding something else.”
you honestly wanted to laugh at him just because of how ironic he sounded, but there was a time and place.
“like, being with all my siblings make me happy no matter what. but i keep chasing things that really only keep me sane for so long.”
“like drugs?”
“yeah, like drugs. when i saw my date acting like that, i realized why do we even do it?” he started to draw small shapes into the sand, it was a habit he had when he’d talk about things. did he think you were a genuine source of happiness for him? or was he truly just reminiscing on something else.?
you dropped your arms to your sides and sighed. “why don’t we just forget about everything. for one night.” you proposed. “it’s our last year, might as well save whatever is left of it.” you looked at him to see staring directly into your eyes.
“not a bad idea y/n. that’s rare.” you pushed him at his response, you both laughed. he was staring at you again, you looked back at him. it felt like both of your breathing fell in sync. all it took was one glance at his lips for him to close the distance between the two of you. he turned your head towards him as he kissed you. you didn’t want to think. you decided to fuck repercussions and fuck getting hurt, all you wanted was to be with ajax in that moment. so you kissed him back. your hand went up to his head and the other went to his shoulder. his hands brought you closer to him, to where you were almost on top of him. you broke the kiss for a moment.
“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to do that.”
you smiled and found yourself straddling him now, with both of your hands on his face, with his hands at your waist. it felt natural to be completely honest, like you knew exactly what to do. “wait—” he said before looking at you again. “you wanna keep going.?” you swallowed thickly. you had never done it before. but who better than to have your first time with than ajax?
“yeah—but”
“first time?” it’s like he took the words out of your mouth (literally)
you nodded your head to which he smiled.
“you’re so cute.”
“shut up.” you said before kissing him again to be abruptly stopped once again.
“is that a yes?”
“yes dummy.” he smiled and picked you up with ease, putting in a code to the house and taking to you to his room. the house was dark, most likely because no one had been in it for a while. the two of you got up the stairs giggling before reaching ajax’s room. not even bothering to close the door, he laid you down on the bed and wasted no time in getting his lips back on yours. knowing he had your consent, he didn’t hold back. gasps in between each kiss meant one piece of clothing to come off. first was your hoodie, then it was the rest of your clothes. leaving you almost naked aside from your underwear. ajax unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it to the side. he was in between your legs, simply admiring the sight below him. he ran a hand down your waist and to your thigh.
“i’ll take the lead, okay?”
you eagerly nodded your head. you weren’t afraid if you knew it was ajax who’d be taking care of your. slowly, he parted your legs, caressing your thigh. he took the rest of your clothes off, leaving you naked, while ajax still had his boxers on with an obvious tent in them.
“shit—” he cursed to himself at the sight of you.
“i need you, ajax—” you looked at him with pleading eyes. you didn’t want to wait any longer.
“someone’s needy.” he ran his hand down your sex and collected the stickiness already forming. your back arched into his touch, you’d never been touched like this, and you only wanted more. your mouth made an ‘o’ shape as you screwed your eyes shut. you could hear shuffling on the bed as he leveled with your hole. he was eating you out already? did he do that with the other people he’s fucked? that’d be a question for later. your fingers made contact with his orange hair as you tugged on it. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head for a second.
he latched his mouth onto your hole, lewd noises echoing throughout the dimly lit room. one hand was guiding his head while the other muffled your moans.
“ah- a-ajax—!”
you’ve never gotten head from someone, but damn did you know that he was experienced. circling your sensitive spots with tongue made you throw your head back in pleasure. he knew what he was doing and wanted to make it known.
“don’t tell me you’re close already pretty.” he said pulling away for a moment. you were in fact close, but who could blame you? it seemed like he only went went faster at hearing your moans. unbeknownst to you, he was using two fingers in unison with his ministrations on you. you hardly even noticed at how wet you were for him already. you noticed ajax grinding his hips into the mattress, supposedly chasing his release as well.
“m’ close!” you yelped out as your moans got louder and louder at the edge of euphoria, before no longer feeling him on you. your glossy eyes looked at him in the eyes, and he swore he could’ve felt bad.
“sorry pretty, can’t give it to you that easily.” he smirked, taking his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. you honestly couldn’t blame him, you’d probably be too sensitive to keep going if he let you.
“who knew you tasted this good, любовь?” his chin was covered with your juices, and his eyes were dark. remember how his hair was slicked back when you first saw him? yeah, not anymore.
“you’re so mean.” you sniffled. he ran a hand through his hair, and at the sight of your fucked out look, he went back to your lips. you could taste yourself on him, it only made you want him more. you tried bucking your hips up for any sort of friction, before he pinned your hips down. he whispered lowly in your ear,
“i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” he went from your lips and now to your neck, nipping and sucking on it to form a bruise. he felt a sense of pride in doing it. he didn’t want to go from girl to boy anymore. he wanted you, and only you. he wanted to make you his.
“w-what about you..?” you asked.
“what about me y/n? it’s your first time, not mine.” he said. you felt bad and wanted to give him a hand job at least, but he squeezed your hand in reassurance that he was fine. “you ready f’me?”
as he asked, he finally took his dick out of his boxers, and you could’ve just up and left. not in a bad way of course, but he was big. you worried you wouldn’t be able to take him. your mouth was just open.
“y/n.?” he asked, ripping a condom out and rolling it on.
“i-i don’t think that’s gonna—”
“i’ll make it fit, don’t worry angel.” well that was a new one. “need me to hold your hand?” he smirked.
“fuck off— ngh—!” your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of his tip in you.
“relax pretty, loosen up for me, yeah?” he said running a hand through his hair, obviously feeling the tightness already. “so tight..”
you eyes were slightly opened and your mouth was parted as you nodded, refusing to watch ajax bully his cock into you. you didn’t want to just give up either, you did as ajax told you and relaxed a little, allowing him to slide into you easier. his eyes were concentrated on getting himself inside you, while your hand covered your mouth and another gripped the bedsheets below you.
“you okay?” he was mostly in, with just the base of his cock out. involuntarily, a tear rolled down your face at the stretch, but you nodded yes. his face went into your shoulder as he felt you tighten up around him, groaning into your skin.
“you can move.” you said quietly.
“you sure?”
“yeah.” with that, he had one hand on the bed frame and the other on your hip.
“i’ll be gentle, don’t worry.” he slipped out of you, and back into you in one swift motion. you moaned out, anyone that was nearby would most likely hear you. he started keeping a steady pace, eliciting lewd moans from you.
“that’s it, you’re doing so good angel.” he said, cursing under his breath. he truly meant it. he really didn’t think he was gonna fit either.
“ngh— faster ajax—!” you said, chasing the pleasure you were beginning to feel. he cautiously sped up his pace, being sure not to use too much force. he treated you like a little glass doll. his hand gripped the bed frame, as his thumb came up to your face to wipe your tears.
“so—fucking good for me, keep taking me like that pretty—” mixes of low moans and pants could be heard from him, most likely not used to virgin pussy.
you couldn’t think straight, all that left your lips were broken moans and his name. his hand ran over your stomach, a noticeable imprint of his cock was splayed over you. he looked at it with wide eyes, and as if something snapped inside of him, he got even faster. your hands went to his back, marking him in your own ways.
“keep tightening around my dick like that— shit, you won’t even remember your own name angel.” his grip on your hip only got tighter. the contrast of his words in unison with the pet names brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“f-feels so good! ajax—!”
“i know it does. you gonna cum? cum with me, ‘kay?” he moaned loudly as you felt his dick twitch inside of you. he was almost louder than you. he was at a ruthless pace, but you didn’t want him to stop. you nodded your head, feeling your nerves about to snap at any moment. “say my name y/n.”
“ajax—!” you moaned loudly before climaxing, feeling the condom fill up inside of you, a lot. “fuck—” you said as you sighed, flopping down onto the bed, slowly coming down from your high. your breathing was still heavy, and so was his.
“you took that like a champ.” he said, pulling off the condom and disposing of it.
“no fucking way you just said that.” you said looking him dead in the eye. he just laughed as he laid next to you on the bed.
“shit, didn’t know you had that in you y/n.” he stated, playing with your hair. “never imagined fucking my childhood best friend into oblivion.” you shoved him in response for the second time that night. “you sure that was your first time?”
“ajax i was literally crying as you put it in i don’t know what to tell you.” he laughed even harder at this. “i’m surprised you didn’t tear your acl even more.”
“no, i think you made it better.” he gave you the most cheesy smile. “anyways, you need help?”
“help?”
“help walking.” he asked dead seriously.
“no i don’t need fucking help walking.” you got up, your knees buckling under you, immediately reaching for the bedside table.
“oh what was that? don’t need help?” he teased as he came to your side and helped you. you showered and ajax found you a big t shirt for you to change into, leaving it by the bathroom. he wanted you to stay, he really did. his football season was fucked, that was for sure. but at least he had his little medic to help him recover in— other ways. he lit a cigarette to help with the serotonin production and sat scrolling through his phone. he saw a text from alhaitham that read:
myqb😘: i’m with kaveh i’ll pass on the party tonight
myqb😘: i hope you got laid man ik tonight was rough
myqb😘: nothing fucking can’t fix 🤑💸
ajax decided not to respond to alhaitham’s message and threw his phone on the nightstand. you got out of the shower wearing his t-shirt.
“i could fuck you again right now.” he said at the sight of you in his clothes.
“give it 1-2 business days.” you laid down on the bed as he put out his cigarette, walking towards the shower.
“don’t miss me too much while i’m gone!” he yelled from the shower.
“oh i won’t!” you responded. you looked outside the large windows in his room. it was a really nice view. you checked out the shelves and found old kids books, probably from when he was little and would spend his summers here. you wondered if his siblings also had separate rooms. you did all this thinking but were reeled back into what just happened a couple of minutes ago. you just fucked your childhood best friend. and it felt really fucking good. you felt a wave of tiredness fall over you. you texted kaveh that you wouldn’t be able to see him tonight, alongside that there was a LOT to tell him. you figured he was with alhaitham so you found a charger and plugged your phone in. you looked at the bed and figured you probably wouldn’t want to sleep on those same sheets, so you took some sheets off of the vacant room next to ajax’s and replaced them. then, were you able to peacefully get into bed. ajax came out of the shower in just his boxers and immediately fell down next to you.
“so.. what are we.?” you decided to ask.
“let’s talk about it in the morning, yeah?”
“okay.” you said.
“all you need to know is that i’d be down to do it again.”you laughed.
“goodnight ajax.”
“goodnight y/n.” ajax wrapped his arms around you, your head was on his chest.
“thanks for saving me today.” you said quietly.
“it was nothing.” he responded, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.
“i just hope you’re day wasn’t entirely screwed up.”
“you made it better.” you admitted.
“i’m glad.”
you shifted your leg, and accidentally hit his knee.
“ow, fuck y/n—”
“whoops.”
and to think it all started with a torn acl.
the end!
—————
tag list:
@zamorazz @a1-ic3 @hexipessimistic @kentply @moloteco-real @lacy-lady @korunimi @nOrm4p30p3th1ng5 @tseleven @peonies4pearl @beabadobeee @ukinya
345 notes · View notes
nai-nyeartwork · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
In this AU, Alastor embraces modern technology to stay ahead of the game while Vox stays "vintage". They form a partnership to the point they are somewhat dependent on each other. They're still strong on their own but still, a terrifying duo when fighting together.
More about this AU:
Alastor's powers still use any form of radio frequency/wifi control, giving him access to any devices (both old & new). Using this ability to gain more info and sell it to any demon who fails to return a favor for him or Vox. Alastor still does his broadcasts of cannibal massacres, news/gossip, ASMR segments, music, and of course Vox's favorite cereal brand. Of course, there are drawbacks to being the radio demon and having deer features. Alastor would often get overstimulated by too much noise or information he was gathering. When that happens, Vox takes care of Al by giving him noise-canceling headphones and even mutes himself as they watch silent films together.
Meanwhile, Vox controls visual media/television, but depending on which television device he uses it tends to give him different abilities? Vox prefers the retro tv head because his power has some cartoon logic to it. Other sinners tend to underestimate his abilities, thinking he is the weakest of the duo. But in reality, Vox can transform into an electronic/ink-like monster that brainwashes people using tentacles like wires to connect their brains physically. He can upgrade his appearance but Vox likes taking advantage of any new sinners to trick them into signing a deal with him or Al since he looks "harmless.”
Their relationship can be seen like Jessica Rabbits & Mr. Rogers, in which Vox's appearance and mannerisms remind Alastor of simpler times. Despite the Radio Demon’s modern image, he still prefers old school, especially from the 1930s. If anyone insults Vox or tries to convince Alastor to ditch him, those demons end up in Alastor’s podcast describing in full detail what he is doing to them for all his listeners. While Vox transforms into a monster if anyone harms Alastor and makes sure to record it for his lover to watch later. He once made a vinyl record of Alastor’s worst enemies’ screams as an anniversary gift since Al is an audiophile. 
261 notes · View notes
vivalabunbun · 1 year
Text
There Are Nothing But Flowers
Summary: You want to play house and he’s just hungry.
Word Count: 11.3K
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), Modern AU, Vampire AU, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader,  TW: Medical gaslighting, description of medial treatments & corruption, TW: Blood & Blood drinking, vague mentions of violence, Contract Marriage AU, slight! enemies to lovers, Slow burn, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie, slight corruption kink, temperature play? you fall hard, slow fic, tragedy. 
Authors note: This is the other side to this work, your side of the story, please read the tags carefully. I wanted to explore the other side of the garden wall and themes of mortality, it’s heavy, please read when you feel well enough to see what lies beyond. Enjoy. 
Side note: the aftermath
Tumblr media
“Honey, I’ll be off to work now.” A dapper man straightens out his tie, a briefcase in his other hand.
“Dear…aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Are my pants unzipped again?” His eyes darted down as disembodied laughter rang out in the unseen background.
“No, you forgot this.” The pattering of house slippers stops as the woman cradles her lover's face between her hands.
The kiss from her immaculately painted lips melted the wrinkles from his forehead as the taller man leaned into his deserved affection.
“Have a good day at work, my love.”
A quiet house on the hill, white picket fences, and a lovely dog wagging its tail in the green yard. Eyes watching the vibrancies dance along a small screen, blocking out the gray in the peripheral.
Everything about this drama was cliché, the plot slow and predictable, just mediocre. So perfectly mundane that your hand itches to grab it through the screen like a thief. But are you really a thief if you steal back what was taken from you? 
Before your mind can explore that comparison further a knock drags you out of the immersion, thumb quickly taps the screen to halt the fantasy. 
“Good evening, ma’am.” The doctor in his white uniform enters. 
“Hello, doctor.” 
Two polite smiles greet each other, neither truly reaching the eyes. Your hands neatly folded together, his fiddling with the chipboard which held your verdict.
Observing how his teeth bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the charts. Your hands remain still even as he takes a deep breath.
“Unfortunately it has spread beyond our initial expectations. The results show that it’s progressed to a late stage despite our best efforts. Right now, you only have a few treatment options left.”
What happened to ‘just that time of the month’, ‘just get fresh air’, and ‘just give it some time’? 
“There’s a series of procedures to cut out the spread, however, it might be very difficult as the infection is deep and intertwined with healthy tissue. The success rate is low, and the probability of it coming back is very high.” 
What happened to ‘you’re young and healthy, it’s nothing’? 
“The next possible treatment would be Kalpalata Lotuses. It has properties to slow inflections and has pain-reducing effects, however, it’s slow and inefficient in the long run. If you choose the first option you’ll have to pair it with treatment two. The first could give you fourteen years, the second on its own might only give you half of that.” 
What were these past months spent behind a glass prison all for? 
The constant hum of the machines filled in the dead space, the beeps on the monitors counting the passing seconds as two lips remained closed.
From the hallways, the chattering of nurses provided proof that the world in fact has not stopped spinning. Something dreadful filled the room, a silent suffocation. He was the first to fold. 
“Please take your time to think this decision over, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night ma’am.” There was a flutter of pages folding back down to the clipboard.
The doctors were letting you pick your poison, how thoughtful of them. 
Just as before two polite smiles that didn’t reach the eyes acknowledged each other, with a nod the doctor took his leave, eager to end his shift, to escape the unseen hands.
Not a word slipped past your lips during the one-sided conversation, tongue unable to string together a single sentence. What is there left to say? 
As you lay back down your fingers brushed against the screen, restarting the episode as the laughter of an audience resonated along the sterile walls. 
Maybe if the doctors, with their acclaimed degrees and status, were just a little more attentive.
Maybe if they didn’t simply see you as a lady with nonsensical symptoms.
Maybe if they didn’t view you as a statistic.
Then you wouldn’t have collapsed that day at work.
Then you wouldn’t have spent grueling months undergoing diagnosis after diagnosis.
Then maybe just maybe the Pythagorean Cup wouldn’t have surpassed its threshold, emptying out all hope. 
The dialogue continues but it’s all but a fuzzy ringing now. Eyes watching the passing car lights dance upon the gray ceiling from the late evening traffic of workers, with their white or blue collars, eager to return home. 
You longed for that, to return there. Hands itching to rip out the tube from your arm and the sensor with its pitched beeps. 
Fourteen years, fourteen years of what? Bed sores from thin sheets? Chest pains at too deep of breaths? Stitches recovering only to be ripped open again? 
Sounds more like a punishment delivered deep underground in a place whose temperature rivals the surface of a burning star. 
Was it because you cursed at the man who cut you in line once?
Was it because you stole your college roommate’s sweater?
Was it because you never brought offerings to the Sanctuary of Surasthana? 
Were you such a despicable person in a past life that the sins carried over? 
Heavy lids closed to soothe the burning in your eyes, letting the warm trails run down your cheek. Reining your senses back from its escapade with a slow breath. 
No. It’s none of that. It’s just life, capricious life. Capricious life that took your parents and now is hunting you. 
There’s no karmic debt to pay off, there’s no faceless god to pray to. Setting one foot onto the path of true adulthood, only for your eyes to spot the end just over the horizon. What can you do? 
The jumbled laughs and fuzzy speeches coming from your phone’s speaker were becoming too much. Thus you rolled your heavy body over to silence it. Once again the world outside the window was in view, the soft orange glow from the office right across leaking into the suffocating grey. 
Oh, he’s at his desk tonight. 
Wet eyes watch as the ashen-haired being shifts through sheets of crisp paper and his pen moving constantly. It’s strange, a bit mocking even, that an immortal creature could be so mundane.
Maybe that’s why their office is just across the Bimarstan, to taunt those who longed for that reality, beckoning them to sign their names on a dotted line. 
Candace’s words were right, it’s a predatory scheme. 
Perhaps hold habits die hard, after all, vampires are creatures of the night that once terrorized generations of humans. 
Shielded by the panes of glass separating the two buildings, it was safe to continue this strange routine. Is staring at a stranger considered stalking if they’re the only view the windows offer? 
He got up from his desk, moving towards the filing cabinet just off to the side, allowing for his profile to come into view. 
He’s handsome, features outshining any of the male leads you’ve seen in movies. 
Teal eyes, ashen hair like moonlight, tall and broad stature. It’s no mystery why so many heroes and heroines fell into depravity, lured in by their beauty, entranced minds blindly offering up their everything. 
You weren’t special enough to be immune. Hence, why you continued to watch the nameless vampire who doesn’t know yours. Resting your cheek upon the stiff pillow, the feeling in your arm decreases like the cars in the streets. The pitched beeps keeping time.
He stood back up from his desk again, one hand grabbing the coat thrown over the back of a chair. Placing pens back into a cup and paper back into folders, he walks to the door before his hand shuts off the warm orange light. 
It looks like tonight’s episode has ended on time like always. Rolling back to stare at the drab ceiling, allowing blood to rush back into your arm as the sensation of pins and needles crawled up. It wasn’t bothersome, as tonight's viewing evoked entertaining thoughts. 
What a punctual vampire, where does he go after midnight? To a tavern or home?
Is someone waiting at the door for him there? Welcoming him back with soft lips?
Is that why he’s so eager to leave?
Your lids were growing heavy, the view of a blank ceiling wanes your alertness. The sweet curiosities coax you to continue in the realm of dreams, you listened to their call. 
Could you be that someone? 
Tumblr media
“So, how ya feeling?” Dehya places down a container filled with baklava. 
“Mmm…”
The metal legs of the visitor's chair scraped across the floor as she awaits your response.
“Would you still be my friend if I was a rock, Dehya?”
“Ahh, not this again.” She rolls her eyes. 
Sitting upright in the hospital bed, hands folded together you awaited her response.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll still love you to bits even if you’re a pebble or something,” Dehya sighs, but there’s an upward tilt in her lips. 
“I’ll love you too.” You helped yourself to some baklava. 
A reward for your diversion of a miserable topic with sweet nonsense and special words. After all, she’s got a difficult job during the night, no need to make the day as difficult. Your mother used to say to save such words only for a special someone, but that’s the point of a word if it's never used?
“So, a few weeks ago I took this assignment that–” Dehya’s sapphire eyes moved behind you, gazing out the window where the sunlight poured in. 
“Ugh, his office is right across from you.” 
“Who?”
“Alhaitham, he’s a vampire I had the misfortune of meeting during a job, not that he’d remember.” 
So the vampire’s name was Alhaitham, it felt nice on your tongue. 
“Oh? How come?” 
“He just always talks in long, convoluted sentences, and in that snooty tone, snooty even for a vampire.” Dehya takes a piece of baklava to ease her from that bitter work experience. 
“My, I wonder how his spouse bares with him.” The bait was set out. 
“Pfft?! Ahaha! Who? It’s nearly impossible to spend five minutes by his side.” 
“Mm, really?” 
“No ring on his finger. From what I’ve gathered even other vampires can’t stand that personality of his.” Dehya takes another piece. 
Success. 
The container of baklava now only holds a few crumbs and traces of sweet syrup. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, a sign that your friend’s visit was coming to an end.
After all, she’s got a duty to fulfill as a hunter that maintains the balance between mortals and creatures who dare cross the boundaries of the law. 
Right as your hand returns from the air after bidding goodbye, it lands on the cold screen of your phone. In an age of growing cities and ever-advancing technologies, you’re grateful for these developments. As it makes your next actions possible.
It’s hard to miss a name when the letters are written in bold, imposing signs along the building just beyond the panes of glass.
As per Sumeru regulation, all employed vampires must be listed on company sites, an attempt at keeping track of such creatures. 
Scrolling page after page until eyes landed upon familiar ash-mint trusses.
Name: Alhaitham
Species: Vampire (Born)
Title: Secretary
Years At Company: 168
Fingers clicked on the next tab. 
“To apply for a blood contract, one must bring personal identification, and fill out an application during an appointed consultation with the vampire present. Once the boundaries of the contract are established, it will go through the approvement process.” 
Eyes moved to the next tab.
“Seven years is the maximum time for a singular contract, but it can be renewed every seven years. Both parties must fulfill the terms written on the contract. The value of a contract is determined by the amount of blood offered on a regular basis or in a future deposit. Applying for a contract that gives the maximum, 10 pints, in a full sum amount must pass a psychological evaluation.” 
--
Fourteen years is an unjustly cruel fate, but seven… Seven might be tolerable. After all, it’s often called the number of luck, you wonder if vampires were aware of this, maybe that’s why they chose that arbitrary number. 
Waiting as the sun disappears behind the horizon with your head resting against the stiff pillow. The warm orange glow from the office across from you signaled the start of tonight’s episode. Observing every stop and start of his pen as two voices wrangled your thoughts. 
There was a guest featured in this episode it seems, another vampire enters the office with a fresh stack of paper. He seemed eager for Alhaitham’s approval, even going as far as offering a pen out from his own pocket. However, this plan was foiled by a simple rise of hand by the male lead. 
The universal signal for rejection. 
The guest seemed dumbstruck. The only explanation the silver-haired lead gave was a simple gesture toward a clock. The guest’s hands were moving frantically as if to convey the urgency of the papers piled up.
However, Alhaitham simply takes his coat from the back of his chair and shuts off the warm light. 
In the murky darkness, your eyes could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures traversing out of the office. Oh, tonight’s episode has ended just on time as always. 
How shamelessly punctual that vampire is. Some might even call it selfish. But what’s wrong with being selfish? After all, all true passions in life in the end are thinly veiled excuses for selfishness. 
If life wanted to be shamelessly selfish, then why can’t you? With that, it seems one voice has finally emerged victorious. 
Your fingers crept towards a button just off to the side, a quiet ding resounding as the bright glow flashed. Breaths counting the minutes before a set of footsteps stopped in front of your room, followed by a polite knock. 
“Is there something you need, ma’am?”
“Yes, I want to discharge myself tomorrow, as soon as possible.”
Tumblr media
Your eyes traced over the too-long string of zeros printed on the check, hands wanting to crumble up the slip of paper. So this is how much your life was worth. Standing outside the Bimarstan, you peered up at the tall building that once caged you. 
Were the administrators looking down at you at this moment from their high offices? Were they watching your reaction to their little bribe? Pushing you to keep your lips shut, so that their mistakes and misjudgments won’t reach the ears of the press? 
It doesn’t really matter now, but it was thoughtful of them to hand out an extra bargaining chip. Refocusing your attention back on the building just across the street, there were still some preparations to finish.  
The time was now 6:30 pm, the sun has ran off into the night allowing for the stars to guide you back to the building just beyond the glass.
A simple bag held your offerings: proof of identity, property documents, doctor's notes, and bank statements handsomely topped off with the help of a certain check. 
There’s a jitter in your legs as you stood just beyond the threshold of the sliding doors. Is it really the right thing to do?
What would be the look on the faces of your dearest friends?
Would the handsome stranger show last night’s gesture to you too? 
Your lungs steadily filled with the crisp air, pushing their capacity almost to the point of pain, you exhaled. 
The right thing to do is to be selfish, they’ll understand sooner or later, and the worst thing he could do is say no.
Even if you leave with your cheeks burning in shame, the burn would only last seven years. Your feet stepped past the threshold and the glass doors parted. 
“Excuse me, is Mr. Alhaitham here tonight?” You already knew the answer. 
“Hm? Yes… Are you looking for him, youngster?” The receptionist quirks a brow at you. 
“Yes, I want to schedule a contract consultation with him right now.” You take note of her name tag. 
“Hold just one moment, the secretary-”
“Is his schedule occupied right now?” 
“No, but if you’d let me finish, Alhaitham isn’t one of the vampires that usually accept such-”  
“Please, Madam Faruzan?” 
You weren’t sure if it was the polite address of her name or the plead in your gaze that was the cause of the decisive furrow between her brows. However, her shoulders slumped forward as a huff leaves her lips. 
“Alright, please follow me.” She gestures a hand, welcoming you to the elevator just behind the desk. 
“Thank you.” 
Within the confines of the fancy cart, the blue-haired vampire asks over and over if you had all the correct documents, listing each one out. Your skilled ears tuned every word out, nodding along to feign attention. Finally, the saving grace of a pleasant ding signals the chart’s stop at its destination. 
When the polished doors slid apart, you charged out into the floor, your legs guiding you to the office with the clearest view of your old glass cage.
From behind you, Faruzan called out your name as she mutter something about how humans these days are always in just a rush. Your ears could care less about her words. 
Gallivanting through the threshold of his open office door, you finally came face to face with the male lead you’ve been fawning over.
As his eyes meet yours, you observed the brilliant shades of teal and ocher in them. Really, the view from across two panes of glass couldn’t detail his true beauty. 
“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham.” You beamed your best smile. 
The pattering of steps behind you comes to a stop as Faruzan finally catches up exasperated at your impatience. 
“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.” 
The weight of his teal gaze shifted back on your frame after your late introduction, assessing the situation as you awaited his response. 
“I see.” He nods while walking out from behind the desk, pulling out the chair in front of it.
The receptionist took her cue to leave the room, shutting the office door on the way out. The room now balanced with just one mortal and one immortal. 
You paid no mind to his words as you settled down into the seat, after all, you’ve already read through them. Instead, your ears absorbed his timbre tone and smooth cadence. What a dangerously beautiful voice, it’s beckoning you towards the murkier waters. 
“What are your demands?” 
“Marry me.” Your lips blurted the truth out before shame got the chance to stop them.
Remember, the worst he could do is to show you the door. 
In truth, you were preparing yourself to see the open palm of his large hand as he rejects your ridiculous proposal. Yet, here you were, still in his office. Sitting just across the expanse of his dark oak desk, all your documents scattered across it as Alhaitham’s pen guided across a form. 
“What are the living arrangements you expect?” He doesn’t glance up from the paper.
“Mm… Would moving into your home be possible? Married couples usually live together.” 
“That’s possible. Expectations for domestic and financial responsibilities?” 
“I can’t work, so I don’t mind taking care of the house. But, I do want us to share some chores, so I don’t go insane.” You wonder if the ends of his lips would curl at your humor.
“I see.” The pen continues to record the sentences down on the form. 
You kept the smile up despite the sting of failure. 
“So… How much blood do vampires need?” Best to move on. 
“It depends. Humans can give at most two pints of blood safely, and only once every two months.”
“You only need to feed once every two months?”
“Yes, would that be an issue?” 
Lips parted, your next sentence dangles just off the tip of it. However, it seems that Alhaitham had already read them. 
“Mortal medicine has no effect on our bodies.” 
“Are there any restrictions on affection? Any personal boundaries?” You pivoted to another question. 
The pen stops for a moment, his teal eyes shifting off the paper for just a brief moment as he evaluates numerous scenarios, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing. 
“Deep kisses are not permitted.” Alhaitham’s teal eyes pierced straight into yours as he delivered the verdict. 
It’s silly really, you really don’t have the right to demand an ounce of touch from him, you aren’t entitled to his personal space. However, something still made your stomach sink. 
“Oh?... May I ask why?”
“There runs the risk of blood contamination through exchanging saliva, our incisors are quite sharp.” 
Oh. You read between the lines he penned down. The most sacred law of this age, a time where mortals and immortals walk alongside each other: vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. 
He’s being precautious, after all the price he’d have to pay for a drop of his blood tainting yours is far greater than anything you could offer. Yet, the greed deep within you wouldn’t stay silent. 
“Are closed-mouth kisses okay then?” Haggling the clauses like you were at a market stall. 
Once more the pen stops as he contemplates your bargain. 
“Yes.” 
Tumblr media
“The contract has been submitted to the legal department. If you pass the evaluation, it’ll be approved by the end of this month. I look forward to your cooperation.” 
And with his disembodied voice over the phone, he accepts your proposal. Alhaitham agreed to play the role of your husband. The anticipation that weighed down your shoulders for the past three days was finally lifted. Hopefully he can’t hear your idiotic grin through the phone. 
Success. 
“No, I won’t accept this.” Dehya slams her glass down, unfazed by the glances from surrounding tables. 
“Please reconsider your decision.” Candace gives you her disapproving gaze. 
Shifting your eyes over to Nilou, poor sweet Nilou whose wide eyes could only convey the word ‘why?’. The interrogation after showing the ring to your dearest friends was much more intense than the evaluation you underwent to get the marriage approved. 
However, it’s to be expected. After all, two of the people at this table were hunters. If anyone knew the true brutality vampires hold, it would be them. 
Tapping on the screen of your phone to reveal the time. Of course, you won’t arrive at this negotiation unprepared. Glancing back up to face the counsel of your friends, a honeyed smile on your lips. 
“Would you guys have the time to accompany me to a doctor’s visit?” 
That took longer than you expected, walking out of the sliding glass doors which reflect the everchanging hues of dusk. The cause for this extended session at the Bimarstan was the numerous times your dearest guests made the poor doctor repeat your verdict. 
Each time hoping that something different would leave his mouth. Peering up at the building across the street, you wonder if he’s getting ready to leave the house soon. 
The closing of the automatic doors draws your attention back to the three figures who followed behind you. Pensiveness eyes downcasted as their minds continued to digest the events that have unfolded. 
“Pfft! What’s with this atmosphere?” A giggle leaves your breath, it’s unbefitting for a gathering of friends. 
“I won’t force you to attend my wedding if you don’t want to. However, I’ll be quite the lonely bride without any bridesmaids.” There was your honeyed smile again.
They could say no, they could beg you to drink the first poison offered by the doctors, they could ask you to give them more time, to give yourself more time. But they won’t. You knew they won’t.
Unlike you, they’re selfless and heedful, all your fortune in life must’ve been spent on finding such dear friends. 
You’re the only selfish one. 
Tumblr media
There are many things you like about Alhaitham. Even excluding his excellent physique, his starlight hair and beryl-citrine eyes, he’s got the perfect traits of a life partner. He satisfies all the aspects of the ideal husband. Never leaving you wanting or hungry. You could list all his positive traits.
One, by simply holding out a hand, he’ll place his black card onto your awaiting palm. Not even batting an eye when you returned home from a ‘simple grocery run’ in a new set of clothes with the tags still on.
When you mentioned to him that a TV would look nice on the empty living room wall, he ordered one on the same day. How dreamy. 
Two, he’s quite the interesting specimen. 
“So, if someone were to douse you with blessed water, your flesh won’t burn?” 
“No.” 
Alhaitham humors your ridiculous inquires about his species, enlightening you to just how inaccurate those films and shows you loved were.
He even humors the trivial anniversaries, celebrations, and dates inspired by any recent dramas you fancied. The wedding was proof enough: he tolerates your fantasies. 
Three, what you liked most of all: he’s too smart to ask redundant questions. After all, he’s read the files, he’s seen the diagnosis.
It’s not some secret that shall not be told, not a monster that shall not be named. Just like how there’s no point in telling someone the sky is blue, there’s nothing left to say about the doctor's notes.
No surprises, no sudden alarms, just the artificially sweet lull of domestic life. 
Performing the part of a doting husband with such spectacular accuracy, you could almost mistake it as sincere.
You applaud the amount of skill it takes. However, costars are meant to bring out the best in each other, pushing one another past their thresholds for an excellent show. 
The slightest blunders of lines and facial muscles couldn’t fool your expert gaze. It does take one to know one. 
“Haitham,” you called out. 
Setting down the two servings of biryani on the dinner table, the rich spices perfumed through the halls. It only takes one call for Alhaitham to come out from his library, halting for a second at the threshold of the kitchen before swiftly composing himself once more. 
“Dinner is ready, it’s biryani tonight.” You gestured for him to take a seat, a smile ever present on your lips. 
“Thank you.” He takes his place. 
You take your place just across the table, wasting no time enjoying the fruit of labor after standing over a stove. Every grain of rice perfectly coated in the right amount of seasoning, just the correct level of richness. The recipe you followed online deserved its high rating, it’s delicious. 
Traveling across the length of the dinner table, your leaden gaze landed upon the figure who has yet to touch his meal. That must’ve been enough for him to take his cue, bringing a spoon full into his mouth, chewing then shallowing. 
“How is it?” Resting an elbow on the polished oak.
“You’ve worked hard on this dish, thank you.” He takes another bite. 
Letting out a pleased hum, you released him from this scene. Turning your attention back to your own meal. 
You’ll clear your plate in about twenty more bites, and he’ll continue to push the contents of his plate around once in a while faking a bite. Then after you’re finished, he’ll swiftly offer to clear the table and dishes, telling you to retire to the bedroom for rest. 
A clever diversion from his ultimate goal of dumping your cooking into the trash. You’ve gone through this script for two years now. 
It’s practically impossible to completely suppress one’s true intentions and instincts. Alhaitham can’t fully prevent the corners of his lips from down-turning every time you address him with that botched nickname. 
He can’t entirely stop the sigh escaping his lips whenever you call for him to help with menial tasks, unbefitting for such a noble creature. 
He can’t suppress the repulsive scrunch of his nose every time your cooking assaults his palate, the same reaction witnessed during the bi-monthly feeding sessions.
The same disgust he has of your blood, you thought mortal medicines has no effect on such beings, an oversight on his part. 
He’s not as much of a mastermind as he might think, after all, he’s the one who allowed a piece of paper to be dangled over his head. Placing the power of clauses into the palm of your awaiting hand. 
You tell him ‘jump’, and he’ll ask how high with disdain thinly veiled behind brilliant teal.
Humans are defined by their curiosity and greed, mortal hands always playing chicken with a boundary, testing how far they could go. You’re not special enough to be different.
Perhaps the only time he gets the advantage is when you bare your neck for him. Fangs hastily piercing skin, hands a bit too harsh around the neck. He wants it to hurt, you know. 
Too bad, months spent at the hospital trained your tolerance to such sensations. 
If life wants to entangle its fingers into your hair and cruelly tow you to and fro, why can’t you enjoy that same feeling? You’ll just grasp at any wisp of control, you’re a simple human after all. You’d even grasp onto death to stable yourself.
Mortal self-interest versus immortal apathy, what a disastrous harmony. 
Tumblr media
Ah, you slept a bit too long. Extended nap causing you to miss a scheduled cup of tea. Tapping a finger along the cool marble countertop you watched the kettle boil.
Frame resting against the counter, each tap against the marble was a futile attempt at distraction. Kalpalata Lotus’ effects can only last four hours, what a shame. 
The steady rhythm of taps interrupted now and then by a pulse of pain as the leaves steeped. Starting deep within your core then crawling it’s up to your lungs like a shadow overtaking a frail flower. 
This must be your warranted punishment for a transgression committed over the weekend. Dragging a creature of the night into the bright, unwelcoming sun all for a silly farmer’s market. Alhaitham’s slumped figure and worn tone were the cue. 
You thought vampires weren’t like how the drama portrayed them, but perhaps there’s some truth, an oversight on your part.
You played chicken with that boundary and got burned, how will you soothe the wounds of guilt now? 
Foregoing honey this time, you hastily swallowed the entire contents of the cup. No matter how fast you push the tea down your throat, no matter how many spoonfuls of honey you put into it: it’s unpalatable. 
The herbal tang dried the inside of your mouth, yet the bitterness made your salivary glands go into overdrive. This is what purgatory is like, huh? 
The chime of your ringtone snapped you back to reality. Glancing over at the screen: Candace. A call so late, she’s at work now, isn’t she?
Swiftly pushing down the bitterness that lingered, clearing your throat before accepting the call. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening, how are you feeling, any discomfort?” 
“Pfft! The diligent Candace gets on her phone during work just to check up on me? I’m swooned.” Your bell-like laughter made the pain worse as it rang through the empty house. 
From the other side, you could pick up the faint giggle, you envision her fighting back a smile. 
“Yes, yes. But more importantly, where are you now?” 
“Home, why? Did you want to visit? I got some baklava.” 
“Good, stay there.” There’s an instant switch to the mood. 
“Mm?” You hummed, passively acknowledging the tension. 
“Please stay inside. There’s a rouge vampire at large, hunters are scattered all throughout the city.” 
Leaving you with a cliffhanger, she knew you’d want a taste of the details. You’ll bite. 
“Oh? That serious, what did they do?” 
“He turned his lover.” 
Goosebumps ran up your neck in the perfectly tempered room. That vampire crossed the forbidden line in the sand, straight into the ocean of inevitable demise. 
The most sacred rule results in the most miserable end. Once caught, his chest will be pierced with silver, heart torn from his body. She doesn’t need to detail those, you already knew. 
“Oh?” 
“His lover has been located, they’re receiving treatment, unsure of the status. However, you should tell your husband to be careful.” 
“I should be saying that to you. Stay safe out there, he’s probably on his way back anyways.” Your eyes glanced at the clock, 11: 59 pm. 
“Alright, I will. You should really rest, it’s so late.” 
“Mm? Says you, Candace. Tell Dehya I said to stay out of trouble.” 
She hums in response. Right after you chimed your farewell and right before she disconnected the call, you slipped in one more line. 
“Please stay safe.” Addressed to no one person in particular. 
The hands on the clock now read 3: 21 am, a fresh cup of tea now rested in between your hands. Eye reflecting back at you, still no message, not a single call. His voicemail now ingrained into your ears. 
In an age where humans and vampires now live side by side, it’d be naive to believe that such arrangements are free from prejudice. After all, centuries of fear and hatred don’t just vanish into the air like the vapors of hot tea.
If a vampire is slain during a hunt, a creature unrelated to the true prey, oh well. 
It was for the greater good, it was to maintain the peace, to ensure humanity’s safety. You’re not in the mood to debate such flimsy excuses. 
It’s now 4: 34 am, the blushing hues of dawn were just about to creep through the curtains by the front door. Your legs begged for rest, your shoulders heavy, but you refused to leave your post. 
Finally, the clink of keys slotting into place sang through the entranceway. The heavy oak door opens, you don’t need to study his expression, he’s disappointed to see you. 
“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your command. 
“I went drinking with coworkers.”
You know, you could smell it on him. 
“Why didn’t you call beforehand?”
Alhaitham doesn’t bother to suppress his deep exhale, nor the downward tug at his lips. Disdain meets disappointment, eyes and frowns locked into a staredown as the hands of a clock kept time.
In the peripheral you spot warm orange chasing away the pink, clearing the way for the most brilliant star. Oh, it looks like your wound wasn’t soothed enough. You closed your eyes. 
What went wrong with the script? 
You. 
It’s not selfishness, it’s plain immaturity. Immaturity breeds cruelty. The same immature cruelty of a curious child who ripped off the hypnotically beautiful wings of a butterfly. 
Perhaps the corruption of your tissues has made its way into your personality, an unforeseen consequence of that herbal tea. Or maybe your transgressions were the influence of a green-eyed monster. Immortality gives him an overabundance of what you’re deprived of. 
But it’s not his fault, it’s not an unseen monster’s fault, it’s your immaturity that’s ruining this performance. 
This just won’t do. With the script going awry long ago, there’s no use in trying to follow it, the two of two should conserve your energy.
It’s best to rewrite it again, to say lines that’ll move the scene along in the right direction, to save this domestic drama. You’ll be the first to fold. 
“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed. 
Lids opening back up to catch his gaze again, restrained and artificially blank as always. Still, he’s got beautiful eyes. 
“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.
Alhaitham knows that, so his lips remain still.
“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call, I got worried.” 
Another deep exhale from him. 
“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either. But if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text, so I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.” 
The discoloration under your eyes, the slump of your heavy shoulders, and the unsteadiness of your knees. He’s observing them all, isn’t he? A pro-actor accesses the situation before deciding how to respond to an ad-lib. 
“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers. 
What a typical response for him, but maybe not so much for a husband. 
“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know: ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised. 
“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted. 
You’ll suppress your giggles for now, this successful pivot of a dreadful scene caused a grin to break out on your face. One that reaches your eyes. 
Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek, tying the ending together with repetition that’s now become a habit. 
“Welcome home, Haitham.” 
Tumblr media
“Closed… for construction?...” Your eyes trailed across the bolded letters. 
The grand garden was blocked off by iron gates and mossy stonewalls, path dimly lit by dull streetlamps. 
It’s your third anniversary, to celebrate a new chapter, a reworked script, you planned this special itinerary. The Pardis Dhyai was the grandest garden in all of Sumeru, and they offered night tours. It was perfect, but it seems that you miscalculated.
“It’s negligence on their part for not having this notification on their website.” Alhaitham’s baritone voice draws you from your thoughts. 
You must look so idiotic right now. Getting all dressed up and even coaxing him from the comfort of the house just to bring Alhaitham to a wall. You didn’t fight the slump of your shoulders, the fires of shame licked at your cheeks. You feel the weight of his teal eyes. 
“The street market is open tonight, would you like to go there instead?” 
What a good husband, stepping in to remedy his wife’s mistakes. Finally gathering the courage to connect with his gaze, you notice the faint twitch of his nose as a breeze passed by. 
“Do you not like flowers?” 
“Their fragrance is overbearing.” 
Recalling the times you’ve shoved an excessive bouquet in front of his face during previous anniversaries, the familiar burn of guilt crept up your back. You just can’t do anything right tonight, huh? 
“There’s no point in standing around.” He stretched out a hand towards you, palms waiting. 
“... Heh, it’s a good thing it’s closed then huh, Haitham?” Placing your warm hand into his cold grasp, a meek smile stretches your lips. 
Alhaitham hums in response, mercifully guiding you in the direction of the night market. As you walked along the dimly illuminated path, your eyes traveled back to the stonewall once more, its height towering even over your husband. 
“I’ve never visited this place before… what a shame…” The comment slipped your tongue before you could bite it back. 
Alhaitham promptly stops, turning back to glance between you and the mossy wall. The lullabies of crickets filled the nothingness, much like they did during the wedding night. The smile on your face grew tighter, he must think you’re whining. 
“Woah??-” 
Before you could conquer up a line to transition from this scene, Alhaitham had released your hand, only for his arms to hoist you off the ground.
Tender hold balancing you against his firm frame, you had to tilt your neck down to look at his face. Following the subtle motion of his head you looked in the same direction, eyes widening as realization dawned upon you. 
The garden wall towered over the two of you, but as one, you were able to peer over the craggy barrier that once blocked your view. Wind blowing the floral fragrance over your face unobstructed. 
“What do you see?” The deep vibrations of his chest resonate against your body.
There was no one here tonight. Just a husband and wife enjoying a moment so private, not even the moon dare intrude. Sweetness meddling with bitter guilt, crafting something bittersweet.
“Flowers…very beautiful flowers,” you answered, gazing beyond the stones. 
“It’s a garden after all.” 
“Pfft!”
The contrast between this gentle scene and his curt response pushes a laugh from your breath. 
Patting his arm, you signaled for him to place you down, and carefully he follows your instruction. Once your feet touched the solid earth again, you pressed your face into his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
“It’s our anniversary.” The justification of his actions. 
“Of course… now let’s go, I want to try the samosas there!” The brightness returns back to your lips. 
This time, you lead the way. Warm hands mingle with his cold ones, creating a comfortable temperature as you gallivanted along as one. Under the moonless sky, you told him your first true lie, a full lie. 
How troublesome, you said you’d clean the library tonight. Looking around at the piles of books littered all throughout and the coating of dust. If only a nap didn’t eat away at the day, then maybe you wouldn’t be so pressed for time. 
Oh well, rolling up your sleeves to begin your promised duty. No use in mulling over it, and no use in blaming the nap either. It’s to be expected, after all, tea time is now every three hours. 
Alhaitham’s collection of books is nothing to scoff at, in fact, you’re willing to wager his collection rivals those of academic archives.
How long did it take for him to gather them? What criteria must they fit to catch his interest?
Small inquiries bloomed through your thoughts as each journal slid back into its rightful shelves. 
It can’t be helped. Finally, after four years, you’re now allowed past the threshold of his library. The last corner of the house which was wholly his. You’re allowed a glimpse into his sanctuary. The exhilaration from this privilege was enough to outweigh the tediousness. 
Eyes switching back and forth between the two covers currently in your hands. So focused on deciding between which shelves to place them your ears failed to pick up the poised footsteps coming your way. It took a pair of adamant hands on your shoulders to wake you from these thoughts
“Why weren’t you at the door?” A familiar baritone voice.
Oh, you weren’t mindful of the time at all. Meeting teal irises as you glanced back over a shoulder, not missing the ghost of a furrow between his brow. Alhaitham isn’t one who’s fond of deviations from a practiced script. 
“Sorry, sorry I got caught up in these books.” You couldn’t help but giggle. 
Placing the books back down and spinning around, cradling his face between your warm palms, you carefully placed a kiss on his cold lips. 
“Welcome home, Haitham.” You whispered against them. 
Alhaitham hummed as his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of your warmth transferring to him. How unbefitting of such a noble creature, melting into the touch of a mere mortal. What a beautiful view to witness, so lovely in fact, a certain phrase clawed its way to the tip of your tongue. 
“I...” You waited for his brilliant beryl eyes to reveal themselves again.
The soft trills of crickets creep in through the window, a call back to a night when an executive decision was reached by both parties to remove necessary lines from the script.
“… wonder if you collect books in place of company.” You’ll heed their warning. 
There was a sigh that filled the distance between you. 
“They’re great stimulants for the mind, perhaps you should read some.” No hesitation in his sardonic counter to your playfulness. 
“Pfft! Haitham, I can’t read half of these languages.” 
 It’ll be redundant to reinstate such words into a script that wasn’t written for it no? A part of you wonders if the quip was supposed to be a diversion from the faint downward pull of his lips.
Tumblr media
The windows were cracked ajar allowing the crisp night breeze into the sanctuary of the bedroom, the new air circulating through helped push out the stuffiness. However, Summer was always too hot for you.
“Haitham.” Under the glow of a waxing moon, your hands reached out. 
Soon, the cool cheeks of your husband settled into the space between your palms, taking away the excess heat. You brought him closer, allowing your foreheads to touch. 
To never be bothered by the polar extremes of temperature, how nice it is to be born of the supernatural. 
“Mmm… It’s been a while, aren’t you hungry?” You broke the comfortable silence. 
“I’m fine.” Two firm arms pulled you closer. 
His gray lashes were still shut, concealing away the teal stained with hints of scarlet. A tell-tale sign. It’s about five years too late for him to lie to you. Like a stubborn child refusing to take his medicine, where did the arrogant vampire go?
It’ll be best to change tactics, everything must have its fair compensation, a principle Alhaitham follows to its core. Sliding your hands away from his face and down along the contour of his body as your face rests into the crook of his neck.
“It’s really hot tonight.” Warm palms sneaking under the barrier of a shirt. 
There’s a hiss that sounds next to your ear as two hands firmly grasp your hips. Emboldened by his reaction, your hands continued to explore his sculpted frame, icy skin stealing away the warmth that smothered you. Alhaitham’s fingers kneaded your hips in contemplation. Moving closer to his ear, your breath ghosted over them. 
“Haitham, can you make it go away?” The final push. 
A deep growl reverberated against his chest, a sign of his surrender to your whims. A gasp is knocked out of your lips as your back meets with the plush mattress. This time two icy palms traversed the sweltering outline of your skin, goosebumps trailing behind his every touch. 
You hummed at the sensation as his hands travel further up, pushing the troublesome fabric of your shirt out of the way, exposing your soft breast to the air. A moan slipped off your tongue as Alhaitham gropes at the soft mounds, placing a kiss in the valley between them, cold fingers playing with the nipples now perked. 
Wrapping your legs around his solid frame, your hands tugged at the shirt that blocked your view of his godly body. A silent whine for him to take it off, and like the good husband he is, Alhaitham complies. In return, your shirt was also stripped from your frame, a fair trade. Cheeks stained red from shame your mind was too muddled to process, you blame it on the heat. 
More icy kisses trailed along your chest and neck, as cool fingers sneaked under the waistband of your shorts. His icy touches land straight against your puffy lips, labia glistening with slickness. You flinched at the sudden temperature change against your pussy, and his hand twitched at the small surprise. 
“Wet already, and nothing underneath…” Alhaitham’s baritone voice reports his finding against your ear. 
“Mmm,” you sounded out, shivering at the combination of his voice and teasing fingers. 
“How lewd.” 
“You don’t like it?”
Instantly, a stiff mass was pressed against the softness of your thighs. 
“Do I seem displeased?” 
Entangling your fingers into ashen locks, you let a giggle flutter your chest against his. Two hearts beating on opposite sides. Shorts pulled off the length of your legs and kicked to the side, leaving you bare underneath his mercy.
Rolling your hips against his cool palms to generate some friction, your clit begging for an ounce of attention. A quick slap against the sensitive bud jolts your body as you moan, a swift punishment for your impatience. 
As if to soothe the lingering sting, his fingers circle the bundle causing your legs to shiver as pleasure runs up them. Your folds release more of their essence, Alhaitham’s fingers collect it, tracing your entrance with fleeting touches. The heat engulfing your body was beginning to become too much, your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Your legs pull him closer, attempting to spur on the tempo. 
Your feeble strength is nothing against his, Alhaitham effortlessly pulls away from your trap. A whine left your throat as even his ashen locks freed themselves from your grasp. 
“Shh, let me have a taste first.” He pulls you toward the edge of the bed. 
Vascular hands gripping onto your thighs, spreading them open to allow him unobstructed access to your dripping greed. A firm hold denies you the opportunity to slither away from the cool breaths hitting your pussy lips. 
Alhaitham’s tongue teases its way between your folds, collecting your escaped honey into his mouth as he releases a satisfied grunt. Licking stripes along your pussy, cool lips brushing against your sensitive clit. Your fingers found their way back to his silken locks, the back of your hand blocking your mouth. 
Objecting against your cruel act of denying him the privilege of your moans, a finger was abruptly thrusted into your soaked walls with a squelch, causing your back to arch off the sheets. Hand no longer able to withhold the sinful sounds from his awaiting ears. 
  Another finger soon makes its way into your gummy walls, sliding to curl against that one spot deep within before sliding out and repeating. All the while his lips closed around your delicate bud, suckling and abusing it with his brutish tongue. 
He was supposed to cool you down in this unbearable heat, yet your body only burned more under his ministration. Your walls desperately clenched down as your fingers tightened their hold on his ashen hair, trying to find any perch for your sanity to cling to. 
Your actions only spurred him on, harsh sucks to your swollen clit and fingers increasing their pace. He wanted to ravish you wholly, to leave you a mess beyond saving. White flashes shoot up your trembling legs still held apart by his iron grip. If he continues then you might really fall beyond the grace of help. 
“S-slower.”
Your slurred speech must’ve made your words incoherent, as Alhaitham only added more force behind his movements. Your slicked walls clenched around his fingers as they continued to pinpoint your weak spot, the messy licks and sucks at your clit causing the knot in your core to grow tighter and tighter. Or maybe your husband is just too famished to know mercy. 
Back raising off the bed, no matter how hard your fingers cling onto his hair and the messy sheets you couldn’t stop the fall off the edge as your eyes saw the back of your head. A broken moan resounded through the room. Hopefully, it’s too late for anyone on a late-night stroll past the open window. Every fiber of your being shivering and nerve overwhelmed with hot flashes of pleasure. All the while Alhaitham’s tongue never stopped its torture. 
Laying bonelessly upon the ruined sheets, hands limp by your side. Your chest heaves trying to remember how to breathe as a large figure looms over you. Your quivering pussy reluctantly released his fingers as a string of slick connected them.
Unfocused eyes watch as your husband’s tongue cleans the essences off, making sure to clean every inch. 
You felt so empty inside, the heat between your legs only escalating as your walls clenched around nothing. Was it the heat or pleasure that’s melting your mind? You don’t know and were too desperate to care. You wanted relief from the heat and judging by the hard shape pressed into your thigh, he needed relief too. 
Wordless your nimble fingers reached down, curling over the waistbands of his pants and boxers you pulled them down. Finally freeing his cock, it slaps against his naval as the leaking precum spears across his exposed skin. Playfully, your finger toys with his swollen tip, gathering up the precum as a hiss leaves his clenched teeth.
Making sure to look directly into his piercing eyes, you brought the finger into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the digit and then pulling it out from your lips with an audible pop. 
Your shameless behavior earned you a guttural growl from Alhaitham, soon your hand was pinned above your head. His face was just inches away, the brilliant teal of eyes now wholly glazed over with crimson. Everyone is warned to never play with fire, but it’s just too addicting to resist. 
“Brazen girl,” he snarls. 
You countered with a grin, cheeks a deep red, but what’s there to hide from someone who’s laid you bare numerous times before? 
Sucking in a gasp as his thick tip rubbed against your negligent folds, your leaking walls trembling with anticipation. Longing for the stretch only he could offer you.
“Beg.”
Of course, nothing ever comes easily when it comes to him. Self-control honed by years of experience, all held by the iron grip of his analytical mind. A battle you’ll never win, so it’s best to sacrifice your self-respect in favor of your aching pussy. A fool for pleasure, gone far beyond the point of saving. 
“Please… I want you to ruin me… please ruin me.” Sinful words rolling off your tongue. 
Words that finally snapped the last thread of self-restraint Alhaitham had, instantaneously his hips met yours. Your gummy walls, long ingrained in his shape, welcomed the familiar stretch, clamping down as a wet slap resounded through the room. Alhaitham pushed his cock in further, pinning your body deeper into the mattress, hissing at the heat that engulfed his length. 
Your mouth falls open, pleasure shooting through overstimulated nerves, the bed creaking underneath you as his hips pulled away just to snap back. Setting a more punishing pace than usual, the bed shook in protest as your pussy welcomed each thrust, slick walls wrapping around his girth.
Moans flowed out of your mouth like how water flows through rivers, any semblance of embarrassment drowned out by molten pleasure. Two bodies connecting and mingling together to create a private heaven. 
Alhaitham’s hand abandons its grip on your wrist in favor of getting more leverage on your hips, purple marks promising to appear in the morning.
Before your muddled mind could process it, icy lips crashed into your plush ones, a tongue crossed the line. Sloppy and hungry was how his mouth devoured yours. Tongues clashing and dancing as he shallows each moan of yours. 
He pulls away momentarily as you took the opportunity to steal a few breaths. Scarlet-hazed eyes observe the transgression just committed before his lips moved back to reconnect with yours.
It’s clear he doesn’t give a damn about that arbitrary rule anymore. Why must forbidden acts always feel so good? 
Free hands now found purchase on his broad back, nails digging into the smooth skin trying to balance out the onslaught of pleasure invading every fiber of your being. Legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the sheets with you never once interrupting his savage pace.
Your attempts at staving off your independent orgasm were futile, teary eyes rolling back as your walls clenched and your body shook. 
Alhaitham released your lips in time to savor the broken symphony of a moan leaving your throat, the sheets underneath you a soaking mess, proof of your fall from cloud nine.
Despite this, your husband doesn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight in front of him only heightened the hunger in his eyes. 
The solid oak bed frame swayed in time with the pistoning of his thrust, tight walls clamping down yet giving no resistance as his thick tip continued to bully that sweet spot. His chilly breath against your nape, tongue running a wet trail to prepare the area. Sensations your melted mind could barely register.
His fingers dig deeper into your hips as he pulls them flushed against his, thick cock pressing further into your wanton core. 
A sharp prick shoots up your nape before the sensation of your walls being filled beyond capacity distracts from it. Your pussy pitifully attempts to suck in every last drop before succumbing, letting his essence join yours in making a mess of the sheets. Trembling hands run along his muscular back, pulling him closer to your heaving chest. 
Your pants counted in time with the hands of a clock, shards of your sanity slowly returning to you as gulps moved down Alhaitham’s throat. With a satisfied sigh, his incisors released your neck, tongue lapping over the escaped drops of scarlet.
Slowly pulling away from your embrace, his untainted teal eyes scan over you. Hair fanned out behind you, chest still heaving, and cheeks still violently flushed. You must look absolutely ruined, just as you asked of him. 
Carefully, he pulls out from your gummy walls, trembling walls allowed to gather their senses again. Detangling your legs from him with tender hands he repositions your droopy body comfortably along plush pillows. 
Humming in gratitude as you rolled onto your stomach, face buried into the luxurious pillows which held his opulent scent. The aftermath of passion gradually faded away from recovering nerves. The space next to you dips down as his frame joins you, a cool hand resting along the curve of your back. 
The soft sways of leaves in the night breeze, slowing pants, and the sweet lull of nothingness filled the air of this private haven. Two hearts, one mortal and one immortal, beating together.
“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence.
A hushed invitation slipped to you behind the watchful eyes of the divine. A lure towards deep waters by his beckoning voice. 
Perhaps your curiosity has influenced him as well. All your innocent inquiries must’ve muddled the line, question after question brushing away at the definition until misunderstanding took its place.
This won’t do. Your time is too short and his time too precious to be wasted on miscommunication.
Since it was you who muddled the line, it shall be you who reestablishes it. 
“I was born a human,” you began.
Pausing to enjoy the feeling of his cool fingers drawing unknown shapes into your back and the gentle vibrations of his hum. 
“I will die as one.”
With those simple words, the line was once again clearly drawn in the sand.
Separating you from him, and him from you. Just as the laws of morals, nature, and this world dictated. 
After all, it was you who said: “For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine”. Not the other way around. The price he’d have to pay is far greater than anything you’re willing to sacrifice.
No, you’re too selfish for that.
Tumblr media
Under a waning moon, the market was lively tonight. Bright lanterns and stringed lights challenged the radiance of the sky’s stars. The twinkling momentarily distracts your mind from the cries of your muscles and the aches of your bones. 
What a simple thing you are, or perhaps you’re just a human in the purest sense. So entranced by the beauty of a rose, it distracts from the sting of thorns.
Such drab comparisons have no place in your thoughts tonight. 
As if to run away from them, your legs moved with volition, weaving in and out of the surges of crowds with clumsy grace, some haggling, some laughing, some yelling. 
Glazing up at the moon above, it was as if she was following your every step, watching, judging the performance of this daydream.
It wasn’t long before the volition faded away as you slowed to a halt, lung greedily trying to hog all the air they could. A herbal scent found its way to your senses, a quick glance to your left confirms your suspicions. 
It looks like your legs couldn’t carry you far enough in the end. Stopping right in front of a display of dried Kalpalata Lotuses, the moon must be laughing right now. 
You weren’t sure which one tasted more bitter, the herb or the irony.
Straightening your posture back up, ready to push through the burn of your muscles once more before a cold grasp grounded you back into reality. 
Whipping your head around, bewildered eyes connected with placid teal. There was a furrow in the brows that framed the hypnotic azure.
“Don’t go where my hand can’t reach.” Alhaitham’s atonal voice carried over the chatter of the streets. 
Bringing your husband out of the house, only to then leave him alone in a sea of people. What a capricious wife you are.
Perhaps Alhaitham foresaw this exact situation, that’d explain the recent spike in his reclusiveness. Seeing this, a giggle bubbled up in your throat. 
“Oh?~ Someone’s been watching my dramas. Where’d you learn that line from?” 
As he sighs your giggles only increased, cold fingers loosening around your wrist. 
“It’s exceptionally crowded tonight, be mindful of your surroundings.” 
You simply nodded along, a sign to him that you’re only absorbing half of his words, another sigh from him and another giggle from you. 
“A bag of Kalpalata Lotuses for the two of you tonight as well?” The vendor, ready with a fresh paper bag, intrudes on this raillery. 
Your lips pressed into a thin line, silencing your giggles as your eyes trailed over the dulled hues of the dried herb. 
Four hours went to three went to two and now down to one. Each cup becoming more and more unpalatable. There comes a point when a bucket can longer keep a sinking ship afloat, perhaps it’s better to gaze upon the starry night as one disappears under the waves.
“Actually… Padisarah tea tastes better, I want a bag of that instead.” A honeyed smile dawned upon your lips as you glazed back up at him. 
Alhaitham parts his lips, a response ready to fall off his tongue, but he closes them just as swiftly. Returning a hum of acknowledgment at your request, handing over the mora in exchange for the bag of dried Padisarah. 
Your attention has already shifted away from this scene, eyes avoiding the dull hues, finally landing upon wood carved with much creative liberty. There’s enough space for another sculpture no? It’d be nice to add more company to the home. 
Before the muscles in your legs could budge, a hand twitched, reminding you of the loose hold still around your wrist. 
A good partner should respect the wishes of their spouse. Warm fingers slide into the space between cold ones, intertwining like the lights above with the sky.
All it took was a soft tug for a human to move a vampire through the bustling crowd. 
Tumblr media
A common phrase uttered to unwell patients is ‘mind over body’.
However, there’s only so much the body can take before it rebels against the mastermind.
Even your own body had enough of your selfishness. 
Protest taking the form of wheezes, lethargy, and that piercing ache forever present deep within. You were always the one to toe the line, pushing your luck to the limits and beyond, only stopped by a towering wall. 
It’s time to lay rest under silken sheets and plush pillows. Something you’ve been doing very often these days. Perhaps your body is just practicing for the ending.  
The cumbersome duvet fails to capture the wisps of warmth only a Sumerian Summer can offer, it fails to prevent the chill from penetrating deep into your every bone.
Dull senses alert you to a shift in weight on the mattress. Fighting against the leaden weight of your lids, you opened your eyes to the sight of your husband.
Ashen hair slightly trussed and button down wrinkled as his frame lays next to yours. He must have come here straight from the door, a once-practiced tradition slowly faded away much like strength from your limbs. 
The muscles on his face relaxed, neutral by default, yet his eyes were downturned much like the corners of his lips.
Your husband must be deep in thought. His thumb is digging into his palm again, it seems that Alhaitham has developed a new habit. Hazy eyes carefully focused on how the nail threatened to break the surface of his palm.
That’s no good. 
Ignoring the exhaustion, you slipped your fingers in between his, shielding his palm from the assaults of his thumb, settling into a gentle embrace as two rings clinked together.
The weight of a teal gaze centers on you.
“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice barely a whisper. 
Chest protesting against your action with wheezes, but you needed to finish this script, it's what a co-star should do.
“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” Exposing your neck to him as your lashes fluttered shut, it was time to pay your dues. 
Much like the clauses written on parchment signed by two names, the ending of this script must be followed, your body already taking its cue.
At least the doctors were accurate this time, how punctual your body is. 
A brisk breath brushed against your nape, skin reacting with a trail of goosebumps as you feel the presence of sharp incisors draws near before grazing against your delicate neck. Your mind counts back, ready for the final pierce of pain to come. 
Three… Two… The pressure of his fangs disappears from your skin. Replaced by the touch of gentle lips.
Opening your eyes with confusion and lost anticipation, you were met with stoic eyes.
“You don’t have to hold yourself back.”
“I’m not holding myself back,” Alhaitham answers without the slightest pause.
Your chest wheezes once more at your lung’s clumsy attempt at gathering a breath.
“What a silly vampire,” you giggled, the crimson hues were obvious even to your dimming vision. 
After the numerous questions you asked and the innumerable answers he gave these past seven years, you still couldn’t fully comprehend him. Neither of you were the masterminds you thought you were, huh? 
In the end, both of you were fools trying to perform a stage play.
Your mind ponders this revelation as Alhaitham tugs the covers up your body, gentle hand running along your body through the thick fabric barrier. 
The faint ticks of a clock pull a buried secret from the guard sanctuary of your thoughts, dusting off the obscurity to reexamine the details in full clarity.
What was the end of the path like? Well, just like the scene blocked off by a garden wall under that moonless night, it’s all the same.
Maybe tonight you’ll tell him the truth.
What was over that wall? With its stones piled high and with moss creeping through its crevices, a wall that only creatures born within the grace of an undecided god could peer past. What did it conceal?
Nothing.
A nothingness so empty, ultimate peace could reside. 
Seems like you’ve discovered something new in the end, you shameless fool. Death is nothingness in the end, a nothingness that fingers pass right through. 
So instead of holding on to nothing, you’d rather grasp a cold hand as nothingness envelopes you. He didn’t seem to mind. 
You wanted to tell this to the creature who humored your daydream for all these years. If he doesn’t want your blood then you could at least impart this priceless insight to him. 
Oh, it’s such a shame that your tongue just won’t move anymore. Instead, you’ll offer him a smile. In hopes that Alhaitham could decrypt the curvature of your lips with his seven years of experience. To translate your silent message into a language known to man with his lifetimes of wisdom. 
It’s all you could do to thank him for holding your hand as the dirge of Summer crickets fade out and the last first rays of a grieving sun kiss the horizon. The final wisp of warmth escaping down your cheek. 
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
1K notes · View notes
hellfire--cult · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby
Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie
⚠️18+: PINING, LOTS OF IT. Sexual tension, drinking, drinking game, sexual talk
wc: 8.2K
A/N: i can't apologize enough for taking so long. So much happened last month, and I realized I am not capable of having two jobs.
Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!
Taglist is closed
<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->
Tumblr media
CHAPTER 15
“So? You and Nance? Are you guys official or?”
You took a bite out of your sandwich, as you and Robin sat in your office’s cafeteria. All your coworkers were chatting away, laughing, some stressed while still making phone calls, but those were departments you would never think of doing yourself in your life. Sales. Recruiting. You’re glad you have the editor job because the work pressure is not huge, but it is very important and has to be done perfectly.
“I mean it’s been, what, a month? I still think it’s too soon…” Robin sighed as she took a bite out of her pasta. You gulped your food down, taking a long sip of your diet coke, looking at your best friend who had a sad look on her face.
“But you guys are exclusive to each other already.” You commented because that’s what she had indeed told you two weeks ago. She told you that Nance and her, established that they are only hooking up with each other, no one else. 
“Yeah I know, but we’re just having sex, and it’s fun!” You could see the forced smile on your friend’s face and you giggled as she sighed in defeat, slumping back down on her seat.
“Yeah, but you don’t want just the fun Robs. What are you afraid of?” And Robin kept her gaze on her plate, twirling the pasta on the plastic below, not lifting it up to take a bite. You knew why she was scared, she didn’t really need to tell you.
“It started like that with Vickie. What if it happens again? What if I… misinterpret things?  Again?” You sighed at that, reaching out to hold her hand in yours in a reassuring manner.
“I can tell that you are not Robs… Nance gets all giggly when you kiss her cheek… I think she is waiting for you to make the move.” At your words, Robin just squeezed your hand with a small smile on her face. “It will be okay, I promise.”
“If I end up heartbroken, I’m coming for your ass.” You laughed as you let go of her hand, resting back in your chair. 
“You won’t. And you have to remember, Eddie’s best friend’s with Nancy and–”
“And you talk to him almost every fucking day now, and so you have information.”
You frowned at that with a pout on your lip. Robin wasn’t saying that with venom. She was saying it to tease you really. She found it amusing how quickly you and Eddie turned your relationship from hate to almost an unbreakable friendship. 
“I– We don’t talk every day.” And as if on cue, your phone vibrated, a small ting sound informing you that you had been sent something and Robin only rolled her eyes with a shake of her head. “It might be someone else.”
“Really? Open it.”
You winced at your best friend’s order. You knew it was him. You knew he was probably sending you an update on his employee Gareth and how he is freaking out because he thinks Jeff is flirting with him… when it’s all a made-up joke between Eddie and Jeff.
You told him many times to quit it, that Gareth would end up scarred because of it, but Eddie dismissed it because he pranked him once as well, never telling you with what. You assumed Eddie just made a fool out of himself, that’s why he promised to never say a word to you about that.
You slowly raised your phone and unblocked to see Eddie’s message pop up. You took a deep breath in, showing the screen to Robin, only for her to scoff and roll her eyes. You looked back at the screen and it was a message from him reminding you that he has to take a look at the oil tank of your car.
“It’s just about my car.” You excused yourself with that, even though you knew that you two don’t talk just about that. Yesterday he told you that his uncle managed to get up from bed after many days of being unable to do so. The other day you told him about a great orange deal you found around the corner of your apartment building.
But it’s just trivial stuff. They’re just friendly things… but you linger on his Instagram stories.
The ones where he takes in front of the mirror, the ones where he is showing something in his car shop, maybe a wrench, and you can see the inked forearm and hand, veins popping out. And you especially linger on those shirtless selfies he takes in his mirror or when he wears his overalls at his shop with Gareth and Jeff, the top never buttoned, his inked chest at full display.
He is handsome, that’s all there is to it. Your friend is handsome, and he probably takes those pictures to get women to like them so he can have the opportunity to message them and take them out. It’s just that. You have taken a few yourself to try to do the same with all hookups, and you met with Lara again, as well as Jeremy. 
You weren’t really into it. You noticed it since you broke up with Henry and divorced him, that something kind of changed. You felt pleasure, you certainly did… but you never felt complete. It was something you could hardly explain, but you shrugged it off as a weird feeling and that’s it. You loved sex with Billy, but it was because you liked Billy mostly. 
Physically? You were never full.
“Right, whatever. So, today Friday, still on to go to Eddie’s?” Robin said as she took a bite out of her pasta and you nodded at that, replying back to Eddie that you can take the car on Monday for the check-up. It would be the first time you would see Eddie’s home. He told you he lives right above the shop, and it’s kind of like a loft.
His shop is wide, so you can guess just how big it is. But you can sort of imagine how it looks, and it filled you with some kind of excitement that was weird to explain. Maybe you just wanted to know more about your friend; knowing his house was the next step.
“Yeah, is everyone else going too?” You put the phone down and wiggled your eyebrows at your best friend. She bit her bottom lip with a smile on her face and shook her head.
“Yes, Nance is also going.” You giggled at her face becoming red and you looked up to see the TV above, a commercial popping up that made your smile drop completely. Robin frowned and turned around to look at what you were seeing.
Billy Hargrove announcing a GUCCI perfume.
“Guess he got signed to another publicity company.” You murmured and looked back down. In all honesty, you had moved on from Billy and your friends helped a lot with that. They took you out and the hookups you had also made everything go a little bit smoother, and it’s not like you forgot and were done with… the strong feeling of love never got to build.
Your dislike for him only grew when he was interviewed about betas, same-sex marriage, and adoption, and he said he was all for it, with a smile on his face. It made you mad, it made you feel disgusted that you had a relationship with someone like that. That also helped to destroy that yearning you still had for him, it immediately disappeared just like magic.
“Not our problem anymore, nor yours.” And you knew Robin was trying to cheer you up, but because if Billy’s real personality came out into the light, your company would be targeted, you would all have to make a statement that as soon as you found out his ideals, you dropped him and the contract.
“I know… Okay, what do I have to bring today?”
Tumblr media
You didn’t dress much, just some black pants, a white blouse, a little flowy, hem tucked in your pants, you arrived at Eddie’s shop with Robin and Steve, you being the designated driver of the night if it decides to head into a drunken one. 
“The stairs are on the back.” Steve said and guided you both around the shop, your coat keeping you warm in the cold night as Robin rambled about the game she brought for the night. She has been here before, you being the only one in the group to actually see his place for the very first time.
Steve walked up the stairs, which was one flight and you could see the window of his office, and then up another flight of stairs, the metal clinking under your boots at each step you took, and Steve entered a small entryway, very small, like a cove, his feet standing over a mat. 
You blinked in awe at how big his fucking home is. You always thought that this was kind of like a warehouse attic, but no. It had always been his home. Windows were all around and you are just now realizing all the warm lights that lit the inside. Steve knocked on the door and you gripped the beer pack in your hands. You heard murmuring on the other side and then loud boots echoing as they approached the door.
The door swung open to reveal Eddie, burgundy t-shirt on, almost tight to the body, inked arms on display, as well as tattoos that littered around his neck. His hair was in a low bun, stubble on his chin, and you kind of felt your breath hitch in your throat. You were looking at him over Steve’s shoulder, and Eddie’s eyes landed on yours, and for a second you felt a shiver run down your spine, something that has been happening a lot recently… more than you liked.
“Welcome to my coven.” And just like that he moved to the side to let you all in, the warmth of his place invading the three of you, a sigh of relief coming out of each of your lips and you already wanted to take your coat off. You looked around and… it was certainly an industrial loft like you see in those New York movies. Brick walls, the kitchen on a corner, a wide living room, a black leather couch with a coffee table in the middle, and a wider 55” TV in front. 
You also spotted a lot of 80’s rock posters that were put into frames, making them more stylish. An electric guitar next to the TV was standing there, an amp right next to it. You spotted a library as well, and you will snoop into it later just like he did back at your own place. Then you saw the door that was a bit opened, and it was a very nice full bathroom.
And on the other side, you saw some stairs leading up to another part of the home, and you could guess his bedroom was up there. He lived in a better place than you, and… his style was impeccable, so of course that was the first thing you blurted out. 
“Holy shit, I really thought this would be a mess knowing you.” And you now noticed thanks to their laughter that Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle were all sitting on the couch and on top of the wide black fluffy rug below, their drinks sitting on the coffee table that’s in the middle.
“Yeah well, it was. Everything was so mismatched.” Nancy replied and then Steve snorted behind you as he walked towards the kitchen to put the snacks on the island counter and you followed to place the six-pack on the black marble.
“I helped too… This guy has no taste in interior design.” He said and you laughed loudly at that, nodding.
“Now, that makes so much more sense.” “You all fuckers know I’m here, right?” You heard Eddie right behind you, a shiver all over your nape at how low the voice sounded to your ears. Was it always that low? You giggled to hide the nerves and the knots appearing in your stomach, taking your coat off and turning around to face him, handing the fabric to him.
“Oh, I do know. What of it?” And Eddie rolled his eyes at you, snatching the coat off your hand to then turn and see Robin and Steve handing theirs to him with smirks on their face. “You know where to put them.” He said it with anger, yet he grabbed their jackets and went to hang them on his coat rack. You ripped your eyes away from his waist, which caught your attention by the movement and the jingle of his metal belt. You turned to start opening up your six-pack, taking the coronas out, grabbing one for yourself, only for it to be snatched by a ringed and tattooed hand.
“Hey!” You were about to turn your head only for lips to slam against your cheek. Your body heated up by a hundred, to a temperature you haven’t felt in a while. You looked to your side and Eddie was intensely looking at you, and your heart skipped a beat. A cheshire grin spread on his face as he straightened up again, opening the beer for himself.
“Thanks, Peach.” And just like that, Eddie walked away and towards the couch. You turned your head to look at Steve and Robin who were chatting away, putting snacks in bowls, not even noticing what had just happened. 
Your heart was beating strongly, that much you knew, but Eddie was just a touchy person. You two are friends, that’s all you are. You sighed and grabbed another Corona, popping it open, before walking towards the circle of friends, sitting down on the rug next to Argyle, who had a goofy smile on his face as he bumped his shoulder against yours.
“So, how is my brochacha doing?” You smiled at your sweet friend, pressing a hand on his shoulder.
“I am doing good. How about you, my long-haired adonis?” 
“Hey!” You turned your head to see Eddie with a frown on his face and his hands up. You rolled your eyes at him, ran a hand through Argyle’s hair, and showed the ends to the other long-haired man in the room.
“This? Is taking care of the hair. You on the other hand have a rat’s nest.” And at your words, everyone almost spat anything that they were drinking, except for Eddie who simply squinted at you with fiery eyes. 
“I have curly hair, not silky one.” And Argyle threw his hair over his shoulder in a diva manner.
“I am the long-haired Adonis. Deal with it.” Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend but still chuckled loudly as he took a sip of his drink. Steve and Robin soon joined in, Robin sitting on a bean bag chair while Steve sat next to Jonathan, giving his boyfriend a smooch on the cheek in greeting. Your lip twitched upwards at the sight and then your eyes went towards Robin who was smiling while looking at Nancy who was blushing behind her glass.
That leaves three single people in the room. And to think you weren’t one of those a month ago, and now you are glad you are not anymore. Not with the wrong person. You took a long sip of your beer as your heart clouded, mind reeling in memories that do no good. Not now. 
A pair of brown eyes were looking at you and he straightened up, clearing his throat in a loud manner to make everyone, including you, look at him. Eddie looked at Robin, pointing at her.
“You said you bought a new drinking game.” He suddenly spat and Robin squealed, and she groaned when she realized she left her purse on the kitchen counter, getting ready to push herself up, but Nancy straightened up and stood up from the couch.
“I’ll get it!” She said contently and walked to the kitchen island to fetch Robin’s purse and you noticed how fondly your best friend was looking at the bright-eyed girl as she approached the group again and handed the purse to Robin.
“Thank you, baby.” And everyone in the room stilled. Nancy grew red, and Robin became mars. They were both stuttering and shit. You looked at Eddie who also looked at you with the same alarmed look on his face and you knew that he knew the situation of their relationship. 
You took a quick sip of your beer and then you pretended to choke, coughing uncontrollably and aggressively, making everyone turn their heads to look at you. Argyle perked up and started patting your back with a little bit of force to try to help you cough it all out.
“You okay my friend?” He asked and you nodded, clearing your throat and doing a few more little coughs for good measure. 
“Yep, yeah, it just– went through the wrong pipe.” You cleared your throat and Eddie was already putting on music on his phone and towards the speaker. Soon enough, Bad Bunny filled the room and you frowned at the choice and looked at Eddie who was red with embarrassment. 
“Since when do you listen to… latin music?” Jonathan spoke this time and Eddie stuttered for a bit, a snort threatening to leave your nose and mouth. You had to stay strong, you had to hold it in.
“I uh… I am trying to expand– my music taste.” 
And your snort was what did it. Everyone just started cracking up at the whole chaotic situation. Nancy was still blushing though giggles escaped her lips as she sat back down next to Eddie. Robin shot you an appreciative look through her laughter and you saw Nancy bumping Eddie’s shoulder with hers.
“Okay, okay… shut up!” Robin finally yelled and she took a deck of cards from her purse. “Here is my new game. It’s called ‘Everyone drinks’ and it’s just, grab a card and do what it says in there. Simple.” 
“Really? That simple?” Steve asked skeptically and Robin nodded with a mischievous look on her face as she opened the deck and placed it in the middle of the table.
“You start Dingus.” She said with a triumphant look on her face and Steve rolled his eyes and leaned to grab a card and read it. His eyes widened and he looked at Robin and then at the card again. 
“Yeah, no. I’m not doing this–”
“Read it out loud babe. What is it?” Steve gulped as he looked at Jonathan and then back down at the card.
“Using your mouth, put a condom on a person’s thumb. Not doing so equals… Six sips of your drink.”
You all started laughing at the dare and soon came to realize that… if you do not complete the dare, you have a punishment. Oh… this was going to be bad. Jonathan was belly laughing real loud as he looked at his boyfriend.
“Seriously Stevie? Are you telling me you’re embarrassed to do that when you do it to–” 
“NOBODY needs to know that.” And Steve grabbed his solo cup and started taking the sips mentioned, making everyone giggle and laugh at the situation. Robin sniffled and wiped the tears that slipped out of her eyes as she pointed at Jonathan to keep going. He laughed and leaned forward to take another card out, reading it first and laughing before saying it out loud.
“Everyone that had sex while drunk, drink four sips.” Everyone in the circle did an ‘Oh’ in understanding. It wasn’t just individual dares, they were also group questions. Everyone drank the sips except for Robin and Argyle, making the rest of you frown in question. Robin you knew she didn’t like that, but Argyle–
“I always get high, that? I do. Drunk? Never.” He smiled as he finger-gunned Robin who was on the other side of the table and she winked at him. Eddie rolled his eyes and smirked as he pointed his bottle at Argyle.
“Your turn Adonis.” And you shot a glare towards him, knowing he was making fun of you, but you felt yourself gulp when he was already smirking at you and sent a wink your way. Your attention was ripped away from him when Argyle leaned forward and took a card out.
“The last person who had sex takes three sips.” He looked at Robin for instructions and she nodded at him and straightened up.
“Now we go one by one saying when was the last time we all had sex. The most recent one drinks.” She looked at you now and you frowned in thought, blinking a few times before speaking.
“A week ago.” You looked to your right so you could look at Nance, and you also caught the intense brown eyes looking at you but paid them no mind, acting as if you didn’t feel them at all. Nancy was a blushing mess as she looked at Robin and then back down at her cup.
“Two… days ago.” Steve whistled at that and Robin threw a cushion up his head, making Nancy giggle as she looked at Eddie. He was looking at the ceiling, trying to think and he was scrunching up his eyes in order to remember correctly.
“Four days ago.” That surprised you, but why should it? He is handsome and well, it’s obvious he has hookups. Those semi-naked stories on Instagram are for someone… or many? You gulped as you shook those thoughts away trying not to think about how much your friend fucks per week. None of your business.
“Um… Two days ago as well.” Robin answered to Eddie’s stare and Steve whistled again, earning a punch on the shoulder by Robin and he yelled a little ‘ow’ as an answer while rubbing the place she hit.
“What a cunt… Three days ago.” Eddie let out a small whistle too and Steve only rolled his eyes at him while Jonathan chuckled.
“Same I guess.” And then you all looked at Argyle who seemed to realize that it was his turn, giving a little jump in his place. “Oh, today!” He said with a smile and all the people in the room almost stood up with surprised looks on their faces.
“What!? With who!? Spill it!” You yelled at him and he raised his hands in innocence while looking at you in a panic.
“With Eden! The girl I matched on Tinder! She is– Oh god guys, she is so perfect… We got high, I made some pizza and– perfect date.” Okay, maybe it’s just you and Eddie the only single people in this circle. You gave Argyle a pat on the shoulder with a smile on your face.
“Good job.” He giggles at you like a little kid and motions for you to pick a card. There was a fun nervous knot in your belly as you smiled, reaching over and grabbing a card out of the pile. You read it first and your eyes widened a little in surprise but the smile didn’t leave your lips.
“Say what you like to do the most during sex, or take a shot.” Everyone in the circle let out a synchronized ‘Ooooh’, making you snort a little as you go into thought. There were many things you liked during sex, but you had to pick one. You had soft ones, mild ones… and rough ones.
“How much thought you gotta put into this?” Steve chuckled at your indecision and you shot him a glare and straightened up with a triumphant smile on your lips, deciding on one thing.
“Okay, well… I like to ride.” And Eddie instantly spat what he was drinking and Steve laughed loudly as the rest stared at them with wide eyes. Did you say something funny? 
“Fuck– Sorry, didn’t expect you to say that.” Eddie commented as he cleared his throat looking back at you. Your eyes squinted at him, licking the inside of your cheek.
“And what did you expect me to say?”
“Hell if I know, just not that.” Eddie finished, taking a long sip of his beer as Jonathan raised his hand up to talk.
“I didn’t expect it either, to be honest.” You rolled your eyes, not really understanding what they thought of you. It’s not common for women to take initiative, that’s true, but it’s a position that… became your favorite the past year. Be it with a dick or a strap-on, it was the only way to feel, or pretend to feel, full.
“Okay, my turn.” Nancy smiled as she reached over to take a card from the pile, and Eddie looked over her shoulder to look at it as Nancy’s smile slowly fell. Eddie snorted, eyes widening as he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laughs. Nancy shot him a glare before hitting his shoulder. “Shut up!”
“I’m– this is great.” He only mumbled as he shook his head with a smile on his face and Steve motioned Nancy to continue.
“What does the card say Nance?” She straightened up and cleared her throat as she looked down at the card.
“Sit on a person’s lap for a whole round. In not doing so, you will have to take two shots.” You stifled your own laugh now as you looked down but you could hear everyone else snorting softly and clearing their throats. 
Robin though, simply straightened up and you looked up to see her patting her knee. Despite the nervousness, you could clearly see in your friend’s features, she was making moves, and you were proud that Robin was finally feeling a bit more confident in trusting Nancy. Her face was bright red and it worsened when Nancy stood up from her place and walked towards her, falling on her lap, making the bean bag chair sink even farther than before.
“Cozy?” Argyle asked and you snorted but still elbowed him on the arm, making him laugh, and clearing his throat.
You looked at Eddie who was smiling as Robin whispered something to Nancy, making her relax and giggle as Robin’s arms were around her, one hand resting on her knee, and the other arm around her waist. You felt your heart do some kind of little jump at how supportive he was of Nance, just like you were with your Robs.
“C’mon Eddie, stop laughing and pick a card.” Robin spat at him and he rolled his eyes at her, flipping her the middle finger before reaching out to pick a card out of the deck. For the second time in the night, Eddie Munson spat a bit of his beer as he choked on the liquid.
“Sh-Shit.” Eddie coughed a few times as everyone looked at him completely startled.
“The fuck does that card say?” Steve asked with curiosity. Eddie blinked a few times and you could see he was trying to come up with a fake sentence, stuttering as he read the card, so you pointed at him.
“He is going to lie!” And at your warning yell, Nancy reached out and snatched the card away to look at it. Eddie cursed under his breath as he sighed, scratching the back of his head.
“It’s not even that bad.” Nancy explained with a pout and Jonathan nodded at her with a confused frown on his face.
“Read it Nance.”
“Name your favorite sex position.” And at Nancy’s words, Steve let out the biggest laugh you’ve heard in the night. You frowned as you looked at Argyle for answers but he just shrugged at you with the same confused look and then you all turned to Eddie who was fuming, looking at Steve who was talking in between his chuckles.
“I know it. I’m sorry it’s just–” and Eddie stopped him.
“A fucking coincidence. It’s all it is, goddamnit.” And it seems Jonathan’s head clicked because he let out a loud ‘Ooooh’ and then started chuckling into his hand as he took a sip of his drink, making you even more confused than before.
“What’s a coincidence?” You asked and then Nancy started laughing as well, already angering you that everyone was putting a puzzle together in their heads while you were yet to understand anything that was going on.
“C’mon Eds. What’s your favorite sex position?” She insisted and Eddie’s eyes clenched tightly and then sighed, looking at Steve with pure hatred in his eyes.
“Cowgirl.” 
Huh? That’s it? That’s not—
“Oh.” 
Silence. Absolute silence. Your face started to heat up, slowly, as well as your entire body because– fuck, the images. You can’t imagine that. Not with Eddie. He is just a friend who helped you through your breakup. So you two share the same sex position, what’s the big deal?
“Damn, I love it too man, but reverse cowgirl is where it’s at.” Argyle commented, finally breaking the silence and you couldn’t hold it in, snorting out a laugh. Brown eyes were staring at you, bewildered, but a smile started creeping on his face and soon he was laughing alongside you.
“You know what’s funny?” Eddie called out to you and you opened your eyes to look at him, a mischievous smile on his face as he leaned towards you, making you lean and tilt your head to look at him. You were sitting after all, and you weren’t even close to eachother, yet, you could smell his cologne, like a fire spreading all over your body.
“What’s that Munson?” You replied with a sly smirk, which Eddie enjoyed as he pointed at Steve.
“He likes cowgirl too… and he likes to be one.” Jonathan spat everything that was in his mouth, cracking up loudly and shaking his head, while Steve turned three shades of red, grabbing onto a Dorito and throwing it in Eddie’s way.
“I’m going to fucking kill you after this.” Steve grumbled under his breath as he took a sip out of his beer and looked at Robin to continue the game while Jonathan tried to regain his breath next to his boyfriend. Argyle was patting his back, holding back the laughter while your shoulders shook, keeping the snorts in.
You looked up in order to see Robin asking Nancy to grab a card for her since she couldn’t move, but you noticed in your peripheral vision, a pair of dark eyes looking at you, almost boring into your skull. You turned your head to see Eddie moving to sit on the floor as well now, next to you. 
“May I help you Munson?”
“Wanted to sit like the peasants.” He replied with a smirk, taking a sip of his beer and you raised an eyebrow at him, bumping his shoulder with yours.
“Aw, did you feel a little bit lonely on the couch?” You giggled as you fixed your hair, pushing a strand behind your ear. “Needed some company?” 
And Eddie stared at you, an eyebrow raised up, almost as if testing you. You felt everything stop for a second, and that stupid knot in your belly turned again, bothering you once more. It was as if… you were nervous. Or anxious? But even so, you can’t pull your eyes away from him at all, and they widen as a smirk forms on his lips, leaning close to you, and a voice you never heard before coming from him. Low, only for you to hear.
“You offerin’ Peach?” 
What?
“Everyone that ever cheated, takes two sips!” Robin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Eddie was looking at Robin with a roll of his eyes, and your best friend clapped in excitement that no one in the room cheated before with any partner. 
But– What? Did Eddie just– No… He didn’t. He was just teasing, like a friendly banter. Fake flirting and all that. This is what it was, wasn’t it? You are definitely overthinking. Yet– why the fuck did you like it?
You took a long sip of your beer and noticed it was already empty. Soon, you all had your second drink of the night and the dares and truths kept coming, making everything enjoyable and fun.
Steve gave you a peck on the lips because his card said to kiss the opposite sex or he takes a shot, and he wasn’t going to risk his head with either Robin or Nancy. 
Jonathan took a shot because he preferred to not do the dare he got. He disliked the idea of having to take a body shot out of someone’s belly button, even if it were Steve’s. In Jonathan’s words, you never know what goes in there, and you honestly agree with it. 
Argyle probably got the funniest of them all.
“C’mon Brochacho, get up!” Eddie was whining next to you, shaking his head and you were laughing as you patted his shoulder.
“You just have to stay still, Eds.” And he only shot a glare your way as he got up from the floor to walk towards Argyle who was jumping up and down in excitement with his phone in hand.
“I swear to god–”
“Yeah, right there’s perfect man.” Argyle pressed play on his phone and the music in the place changed to Everytime we Touch by Cascada and laughter was heard all over the room while Eddie groaned with a whine as he looked up at the ceiling, asking for mercy.
“I want to die.” You heard him talk but not a second later, Argyle started to seductively move around Eddie while the metalhead stayed still. Steve whistled through his cackles and tutted at Argyle’s movements.
“The card said ‘Use a person as your personal stripper pole or take three shots.’ and, as far as I know, you GRAB onto stripper poles!” You almost spat what you were drinking as Eddie’s eyes turned murderous, looking at his best friend, but Argyle wrapped his arms around Eddie and slowly started grinding down. 
You were filming a story for Instagram, trying to contain your laughter as you saw Argyle dancing on a very scary Eddie Munson. Your cheeks were burning and aching from how much you were smiling, and everyone else was just clapping along to the music until Eddie had enough, raising his hands up.
“Okay, it’s done!” He yelled as he ran back next to you, plopping down on the rug, exhaling harshly, and shaking all of his limbs as if that would wipe his memory from what had just happened. The music turned back to a background volume and into an 80’s mix as Argyle sat back down on your left again.
“I do personal private dances for fifty.” And Jonathan laughed, taking a few sips of his Margarita. You were still giggling at the video you took, tagging everyone in it, ready to upload it. But a strong hot breath stopped you from pressing ‘post’, very close to your cheek, and it smelt like tobacco, beer, and firewood thanks to his cologne.
“Post that, and I wreck you.” 
You clenched. Shit, that– He is just close, that’s all. For fuck sake, it’s just the cologne. You were always sensitive to smells and perfumes, and a good perfume on a man did wonders. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before straightening up and turning your head to look at him. The knot in your stomach became painful when your nose touched his from how close he was. 
His brown eyes were staring into yours, deeply, and if you were in a state of delusion, you would think he was showing interest in them. It just made your stomach turn, your heart jump out of your throat, and it made you– nervous. It’s just Eddie. He is messing with you. Totally fucking messing with you, because that’s just who Eddie is.
A ping was heard and Eddie’s eyes blinked in surprise, pulling away to take his phone out of his back pocket. His eyes widened, jaw dropped as he stared at the notification. His eyes slowly turned to look back at you, and all you had was an innocent smile on your face as you locked your phone again, putting it on the table. 
“I’d like to see you try Munson.” And Eddie only stared at you as you reached out to get hold of a card. He hummed to himself as he looked back down at the notification of you tagging him in an Instagram story. You sat back down as you read the card for yourself, mouth dropping instantly as you cleared your throat, putting the card down.
“Um… Can I pick another one?” Everyone booed at you and you shook your head at them, feeling your entire burning a hundred degrees. “It’s just–”
You couldn’t even finish your words, the card being snatched away from your left hand in one move, draining all the blood from your body. Your stomach was flipping upside down as you saw Argyle’s smile widen as he read the card first.
“Kiss the first person on your right, on the lips, or finish your own drink and theirs.” 
You would have done the latter, if it weren’t so much, because your bottle was halfway full, and Eddie had a brand new one open. Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest, but you didn’t know why you were caring so much. It’s not like it’s anything crazy, it’s just a kiss, and friends sometimes kiss for fun without it meaning anything at all… right?
“Jeez Peach, is my face that unpleasant?” You blinked, turning your head to see Eddie with a smirk on his face, making your face turn into a mocking one.
“Maybe it is Eddie.” You would have thought that his smirk would have fallen by now, but it remained, as well as his eyes staring right into yours. You felt a sharp pain right in your chest and you knew your nerves were getting the best of you now. 
“It’s just a kiss!” Robin yelled from her chair and you glared at her as Nancy giggled on her lap. Your palms were sweating, fingertips tingling as you tried to gather up courage. You weren’t a fucking teenager, you were a grown woman, you shouldn’t be flustered by this. But Eddie is your friend now, it would be like–
“It’s either that, or you chug those two beers Peach.” Eddie was taunting you, the smirk still showing on his lips with that playful look in his eyes. His shoulder was brushing against yours as you both stared at one another. You gulped gently in order for him to not notice how nervous you felt, because you would be kissing your friend, and you really don’t want to make it weird.
But you really don’t want to chug those beers… And you can’t deny that there’s some curiosity inside of you. After all, the first time you saw Eddie you thought he was handsome. Probably even tried to flirt with him. With time, that attractiveness disappeared thanks to all the hate you felt for him and him for you… But what if it never truly disappeared? What if it was hidden?
He was sitting with his legs crossed, leaning back, using his hands and arms for support, your friends whistling for you to move and kiss him, to get over with it. And they’re right, you just have to do it and you can move on. There’s no meaning behind it. You just don’t want to do the stupid chugging. That’s all there is. 
You don’t want him. You are just nervous because he is a friend and friends don’t normally do this. It can turn everything awkward so it’s normal to feel weird about doing it. But it is just a meaningless kiss. It really is just a small and boring kiss.
You leaned towards him and you couldn’t reach him. You would have to move your entire body to lean all the way to his face if he didn’t lean in to meet you halfway as well.
“Munson.” You gritted out through your teeth in annoyance. He just kept grinning at you, staying in his same spot, not moving a single inch towards you.
“You are the one that has to kiss me, Peach.” Your eye twitched at his cockiness. Is he the king of England? You heard Jonathan and Argyle chuckle at the situation and that only ignited the fires within you even more, the annoyance starting to boil in your chest. Eddie lost eye contact with you to laugh with them and your arm shot upwards.
Your hand gripped the back of his head, your nails digging into his scalp and holding him tightly there, forcing him to turn his head towards you. His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to say something, but you didn’t let him. No. He doesn’t get to be cocky and make you seem like a coward.
You pulled him towards you, and he winced when he almost lost his balance on his arms thanks to your force. His breath was close, his cologne was stronger, making you feel a little lightheaded, but in a good way. It means nothing. It means absolutely nothing, and nothing will change between the two of you.
Because you are friends now.
But you didn’t expect for his lips to be soft. You didn’t expect to feel your stomach exploding and your chest having a heave of relief. You didn’t expect to feel an electric current go from the top of your head to the sole of your feet. You didn’t expect it to feel good. You didn’t expect the intensity of it all by just this small kiss.
You can feel him taking a deep intake of breath through his nose as you two kissed, and you held in the need of moving your lips because, fuck, you really wanted to move your lips on his. You wanted to keep kissing him because it feels so good, he feels– perfect.  It was a small and short kiss, but you made sure it was deep. You made sure to taste it accordingly.
And you pulled away with a smack of lips. Your eyes opened to find brown orbs looking at you with something you really could not decipher, but it made your whole body light on fire, almost as if you were about to combust. His eyes went back and forth on your eyes and then down to your lips, to your now reddened lips that had just kissed his. 
Was it the beer? Was the small amount of alcohol you drank able to make you feel like wanting to dive into another kiss with him? It must be. It’s done, that was it. A friendly kiss. Not even with tongue, just a peck, it was small and enough to complete the dare. You had to talk to lose the tension because you wouldn’t be able to take his stare much longer.
“Speechless Munson? Seems I’m really good.” That was your cocky answer in order to disguise the turmoil of nerves in your belly as you turned to the rest of the group who were still whistling and wooing you both. You flipped them off, not even noticing that Eddie’s eyes were still locked onto the side of your face. 
The air in the room definitely changed.
“Never thought I’d see the day you two would kiss, but, it was less weird than you two becoming friends.” Nancy replied as she grabbed a card but what she said caught your attention, and it seemed Eddie’s too because he sat back up, staring at her.
“What does that mean?” Eddie asked and you felt another wave of cold sweat at his voice, and you tried to tell your head to not raise the temperature of your body again. You don’t want to give yourself away that you were nervous or felt awkward. Nancy just shrugged at the two of you and read her card out loud.
“Everyone that wants to have sex tonight, take a drink!” She cheered loudly with a smile and she turned to look at Robin before taking a sip. Robin’s face reddened as she took a sip herself, and Steve wiggled his eyebrows at Jonathan as he raised his cup to his lips while the other had already taken his drink and rolled his eyes at his boyfriend.
Should you lie…? But you could– You could mean anybody, it wouldn’t seem like you would want to do it with him, right? Would it look like that if you drank? What if he drinks? It probably doesn’t mean with you, doesn’t it? It’s just a general feeling, wanting to have sex. It’s normal. 
So you took a sip, trying to not think too deeply into it, but then your eyes caught the tipping of a bottle on your right. You managed to not turn, keep your head forward, seeing everyone laughing, trying to not pay attention to the man on your right who had just taken a sip, at least until your nerves settled back to normal. You looked at Argyle with an eyebrow raised up.
“You– Oh right.” You giggled at that and he nodded at you with a playful look in his eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong, I totally would again, but I’m satisfied for now.” You giggled at that and nodded, feeling a bit of the tension leave your shoulders as you interacted with Argyle. You saw Robin reaching out for a card but Eddie raised his hand up.
“Nuh uh Buckley. My turn.”
“Huh? But Nancy–”
“Nancy was sitting next to me, between Peach and I. So technically, it’s my turn.” He didn’t address the fact that Nancy could already go back to her place, leaving her on Robin’s lap. Robin flipped him off and Eddie chuckled with victory as he grabbed onto a card and looked at it. You decided to break the tension with him as well because you just cannot keep being weird all night. You were acting like a teenager.
“What does that one say, Munson?” You were grinning towards him and he looked down at you, a smirk on his lips and you felt a bit of relief at the known interaction.
“All the people that wanted, at any point, to fuck a friend, take a drink.”
You blinked a few times, his words processing in your head, and then he put the card on the table, facing up. It truly did say that. You cleared your throat and you looked down at your bottle of beer. Why do you feel like you have to take a sip? Your mind kept going back to Instagram stories with a bare chest that was filled with tattoos, dirty overalls, and ringed fingers holding tools or beer cans. 
Your mind went back to his lips on your cheek. To his voice against your ear. To his breath against your cheek and lips. To his lips against yours. To his words. 
No, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t that. He is a friend. Eddie is just a friend.
“Why are you drinking Jonathan?” Steve asked with an eyebrow raised up and that made you snap out of your thoughts, looking at the couple. “We are together, so we don’t count babe.” 
“Well…” Jonathan then pointed at you with a smile on his face. “You forgetting that I went on a date with that beautiful girl there once?” 
And you smiled at that, nodding and raising your beer with relief, clinking it with his. Maybe it wasn’t exactly sexual attraction, but… you can pretend it was. You were saving your ass. You knew you were. The realization already happened, but you can just hide it. It won’t happen, it cannot happen because it would just ruin the friendship, the group. 
You took a sip as well as Nancy and Robin. Argyle took a sip and he explained that back in California, he had this group of friends from the pizzeria he worked at, and there was this girl that was just too pretty for her own good. You were listening to him, not noticing the other person that took a sip of his beer. 
A person that wouldn’t have taken a sip before. A person that has been hungrily looking at you all night. A person who has been stalking your Instagram more than he should. A person with brown eyes whose interest is at its peak. But maybe, just like you, it’s better to not do anything about it. Save the friendship, don’t commit to it, not because of just sexual attraction.
Besides you two are adults, and you can handle these urges.
Can’t you?
Tumblr media
end of chapter 15
<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->
A/N: slowly but surely. it's not called a slowburn for nothing.
Taglist is closed! I will start deleting people that do not interact with my posts.
Taglist: @katethetank @seatnights @oliskitten @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell @babez-a-licious @arsenicred @bl4ckt00thgr1n @harrysgothicbitch @emma77645 @fictionalcomforts @sarcastically-defensive17 @lodeddiperrodrick @corrodedcoffincumslut @ghost-proofbaby @take-everything-you-can @nope-thanks @eddiesxangel
190 notes · View notes
astrum-aetherium · 10 months
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ astrum's the secret history & henry winter thirst masterlist ⋆。°✩
hi, all! because we are slowly but surely approaching the 200 posts mark and this blog hasn't even been up for a full month, i've decided to provide all those who are new to my page a handy tool to facilitate orientation. when you expand this post, you will be greeted with a summary of all of my original posts and asks regarding the topic of my blog — incessant, tenacious, shameless thirst for the secret history's very own henry marchbanks winter.
admittedly, i am a complete sucker for lists and organizational tools, which is why this will simply be a heavenly experience for me — even more so because i'm currently procrastinating writing my term paper. however, without much further ado — find the list below the cut.
-> IMPORTANT NOTE: due to the link limit on this post, i can no longer expand it to my liking. because i don't want to create a second masterlist (just yet), however, you will find any newer uploads linked in my own reblog of this post (look in the notes).
˚₊· ❥ general — sfw, informative, personal
my opinion on tsh / addressing the problematic aspects of tsh / henry's middle name being 'marchbanks' and a possible explanation / what henry might've whispered to camilla / my opinion on whether or not henry and camilla were in love / my fancast(s) for henry / my favorite books / my opinion on dorian gray as a character (+ parallels with tsh) / comparing henry to marble statues / modern media henry would be into / elaboration on camilla macaulay / will i be writing about other tsh characters? / tips on getting into classical studies / country house daydreams
˚₊· ❥ henry winter nsfw scenarios
general headcanons about henry's sexual preferences / summer thigh riding / car sex / study date sex / mating press position with henry / riding henry / scratching his back during intimacy / bondage with henry / henry being into bdsm / henry's dirty talk part one / henry's dirty talk part two / neck teasing & biting / henry and cnc / dumbification with henry / henry sucking his partner's fingers / sucking henry's fingers / henry & cigarettes after sex / henry physically responding to pleasure / henry being distracted by your moans while studying / henry & the smell of gasoline / henry muffling you due to your volume / relentlessly teasing henry / cockwarming during studying / sex at bunny's funeral / henry calling you 'good girl' / henry and aftercare / giving henry head to cure his headache / size kink with henry / ignoring henry while he gives you head / clit spanking with henry + coming from your clit being spanked / you and henry at the beach / doggy style position with henry / henry with an inexperienced partner / inexperienced henry with an experienced partner / being bratty with dom!henry + being bratty and fighting henry back / henry burning you with his cigarette / shotgunning a cigarette with henry / jacking henry off with pretty nails / henry using his diary for dirty entries in latin
-> own category — sub!henry: general headcanons / ignoring needy sub!henry / sub!henry punishing you back / making sub!henry beg + reaction to his begging / mirror in front of sub!henry / henry still being dominant while subbing
˚₊· ❥ henry winter sfw / mildly nsfw scenarios
henry & hanahaki disease au / henry with a polar opposite partner / henry with a partner similar to judy / spoiling his partner / getting off on spoiling his partner / enemies to lovers with henry / best friends to lovers with henry / academic rivals with henry / henry being soft(er) with his partner / henry during your period / henry's birthday party at francis' country estate / falling asleep on henry whilst reading / owning a locket with henry's face in it
˚₊· ❥ general satiric / amusing scenarios
gay hampden / list of pop culture scenarios flea wants the greek class to go through / henry holding a baby / playing roblox with the greek class / greek class barbenheimer feud / locking the greek class in a room with the percy jackson movies / the greek class' opinions on percy jackson / being locked in a room with henry / henry watching reality shows with you / henry turning up at your house / showing the greek class colleen ballinger's apology video / keeping the greek class in a glass terrarium / forgetting henry in the cereal isle at walgreens / the greek class being actual people (+ bunny shitting headcanon) / bunny possibly being okay (they revoked their statement) / henry writing smut in his diary
˚₊· ❥ henry winter scenarios inspired by songs
taylor swift — last kiss / taylor swift — illicit affairs / dead girl walking part one + part two
˚₊· ❥ bonus: prose and poetry shared by my saturn anon
one — marble / two — divinity / three — dancing in the rain / four — intimacy overseas
597 notes · View notes
sunboki · 1 month
Text
— ENDLESS WINTER. TEASER a Christopher Bahng fiction
Tumblr media
Christopher Bahng x fem. reader
TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst
WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing
WORD COUNT. estimated around 12k
AUG'S NOTES. me and my inner thoughts… as a fic 😭 i cannot believe this is my longest writing yet!!! hopefully you enjoy!
SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before you’re captured.
alternatively :
Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.
Tumblr media
Hiding in the kitchen’s cupboard was definitely not your intention.
Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not — this one just a bit more severe than usual.
Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.
Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the “Endless Winter”, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, “endless winter”.
She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.
Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.
Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horse’s hooves.
Growing, learning.
Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.
However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.
A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.
Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.
Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cook’s ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.
Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.
Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically — if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.
The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.
The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.
Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.
Had been peaceful.
A scream from outside redirects the table’s conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.
Your blood runs cold.
Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isn’t their own, blades in clutch.
Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. It’s chaos.
Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.
A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.
Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.
Smell.
Ms. Maewether warned you a Beast’s smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.
So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding — forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.
Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.
Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point you’re pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.
Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.
Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.
It doesn’t. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.
Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.
It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.
Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs open—horror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.
For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.
You won’t leave, simple.
As long as the Beast Clan believes they’ve killed everyone, you’re safe.
That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.
Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.
Granted, you’re not the most skillful hunter, but you’re also not horrendous with a bow. Except, it’s not your aiming abilities you stress, it’s the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.
Four weeks in and you’re left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.
Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse would’ve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.
A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.
Shoot!
The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesn’t suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.
However, your success is short-lived.
Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.
Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.
First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.
Beast.
With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesn’t look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors would’ve revealed him to you but that.
This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.
“Hyung, what is this?” He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit you’d killed earlier.
His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on you—knowledgeable as to what you were.
The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.
Mage.
Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.
His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.
“One remained, huh.”
Tumblr media
sunboki, may 2022 ©
253 notes · View notes
roses-for-rosalyn · 11 months
Note
what if abby's father and the reader's father were friends and the like to hangout and play tennis a lot ; one day jerry anderson tries to convince his daughter to play a game with him, his friend and his daughter (reader) who has just returned home after two years of travelling ;
both girls accept their father's invitation! then the big day arrives and abby finds herself in front of reader in her pretty tennis set (and maybe something could happen in the locker room, after a heated match 👀)
I'm baaaack!
Sorry this took me so incredibly long it's been a weird few weeks. I hope I did your idea justice, she's a long one.
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: enemies to lovers, mean, competitive Abby, thigh riding, fem! reader, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, modern au where Abby's dad isn't dead obvi, no use of y/n
--------------------------------------------------------
You were sitting at your kitchen counter sipping on a glass of ice water and gazing out the window, watching the summer breeze rattle the trees. It had been a few weeks since you’d gotten back from Europe, but ice still felt like a luxury. Europe was so beautiful and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, but after a few years you started to yearn for air conditioning, cold water and disgusting greasy fried food. Your first bite of a McChicken back in the states was orgasmic. 
You also missed your family, your dad would call you every other day and talk about his day in incredible detail. He joined a country club and got into tennis while you were gone, he even made a few friends. You were especially happy about that because you were worried about him getting lonely while you were gone. You didn’t want him rotting in an empty house while you went out and traveled the world. Even though your dad’s days were mundane and repetitive you just liked listening to him talk. His voice was the only thing that could dull the feeling of homesickness. 
The front door opening pulls you out of your thoughts. Your dad walks in clearly having just got back from the country club, he was dressed head to toe in tennis gear including a visor. You can’t help but giggle at how stupid and preppy he looks. You didn’t exactly grow up going to country clubs, and dressing in brand name clothes. Luckily your dad had gotten a new job so he could splurge on himself. It made you happy to watch him treat himself for the first time in his life. 
“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He looks up and down checking his clothes for stains or any wardrobe malfunctions. 
“Nothing, you just look a little funny dressed in your tennis uniform. Not exactly used to you in country club attire.” You smile as he acts mock offended. 
“I think it suits me, thank you very much.” He dramatically marches over to the fridge to fill up his water bottle. He’s really not gonna let go of this.
“You’re right, you were born to wear exclusively Vineyard Vines and sip wine on the balcony of your third beach house.” You say with a smirk. 
“Sounds pretty nice to me.” He smiles and leans on the counter across from you. 
He hesitates before saying “I’ve been meaning to invite you to play with me and Jerry, I think you’d have fun, it’ll be like the good old days on your high school tennis team. You’d probably deeply humble both of us.” Jerry was your dad’s best friend right now, one of the first people that welcomed him into the country club. 
“Dad, I haven’t played tennis in three years I don’t kn-” 
“Jerry said he’d bring his daughter too. She also used to play a lot of sports in high school. We could do father daughter teams or daughters vs fathers. It’ll be fun.” He sounds so excited, you would feel way too guilty turning him down at this point. 
“Ok, ok. Have you met his daughter? Is she like.. Nice?” You didn’t want to have to fake getting along with her for your dad’s sake, if you were being honest you would probably end up doing that anyway. Your dad wasn’t exactly good at finding you friends. 
“Yes, she’s incredibly nice, and respectful. She’s a few years older than you, about 25 I think, and she works for a construction company.” He pauses trying to recollect the little information he knows about his friend’s daughter. “She’s so strong I’m pretty sure she could pick me up bridal style.” Your dad laughs at his own joke, but now you are a little nervous. It’s starting to sink in that your dad essentially set up a playdate for you with an incredibly buff woman. You just hope you don’t end up noticeably ogling at her, maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll be incredibly mean.   
You woke up bright and early the next morning, your dad bribed you with a fancy breakfast before the match. The food was delicious, but you couldn’t stop your nervous movements, constantly tapping your fingers or feet. Your dad noticed and reassured you there was no reason to be nervous, and that there’s no pressure. To be honest your nerves weren’t completely because you were out of practice. Meeting new people always made you anxious, especially when it was arranged like this. There was an unspoken expectation for everyone to get along and enjoy themselves and you liked to keep your expectations low. 
Before you knew it you and your dad were walking to the tennis courts. Your dad noticed you were starting to get all up in your head.
“Hey, loosen up kiddo this will be fun, if it’s not you let me know and we can leave. I’ll just tell them I’m not feeling well and we can get ice cream. Jerry will understand.” He messes with your hair a bit and you feel mildly relieved. 
Once you get to the tennis court all of the relief you felt drained from your body, immediately replaced with pure anxiety. As you walk onto the smooth green court you see a middle aged brunette man, no doubt that was Jerry, and a tall strong blonde standing next to him. She towered over him, every muscle chiseled to perfection by what must have been some higher power. As you got closer you could see her biceps straining against her blue t-shirt, her thighs were barely visible, but from what you could see they were just as muscular as her arms. You were beginning to ogle when you’re snapped out of it from the sound of your dad greeting Jerry. Your dad shakes hands with Jerry and Abby and you begin to do the same. Abby’s blue eyes pierced right through you, a neutral expression adorning her face. She was incredibly intimidating considering she could clearly snap you in two. You shake Jerry’s hand “I’ve heard so much about you, hope you still remember your stuff from high school. Your dad and I have gotten pretty good.” 
You smile and reply “It’s been a while, but I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time!” You liked to stay humble, but honestly you were pretty good at tennis. You had won a lot of games and you were one of the best on the team. You didn’t talk about it much though because you were self aware enough to know literally no one cares about tennis. You were also as a result extremely competitive so you were hoping you would be able to tone it down in order to not scare your dad’s friend away. 
You move to shake Abby’s hand “I’m Abby, nice to finally meet you.” From her tone you would have assumed she thought it was indeed not very nice to meet you. But you nod and smile as her calloused hand engulfs yours. You can’t help but notice how warm her skin is to the touch and how large her hands are. 
She was incredibly attractive. 
“Alrighty you guys ready for an ass whoopin?” Jerry jests. 
“You bet.” Your dad replies. 
You and your dad make your way to the other side of the net and get into your ready positions. Abby serves the ball first and her swing was strong, but it was no match for your speed. You quickly learned the harder Abby hit the ball the louder she would grunt, so naturally you attempted to rile her up further. You would smirk arrogantly at her every time you and your dad gained a point, and take an extra long time getting ready to serve on the rare occasion she and Jerry would score a point. You and your dad rack up points quickly and the blonde was growing visibly frustrated. She was starting to hit the ball even harder, her jaw was clenched and her expression was so serious. It was adorable. 
Eventually Jerry calls for a break and sits on one of the benches with you dad, leaving you to sit with Abby. Alone. 
You sit down next to her on the wooden bench and start sipping from your water bottle. She does the same and you sit in silence for a bit. You notice the sweat on her brow and how her shirt is starting to stick to her skin. You can almost make out her abdominal muscles through the thin blue fabric. 
“I’m not usually this bad at sports, not used to losing.” Abby says, looking straight ahead. You can’t help but smile at her discontent, she seems just as competitive as you.
“I’m sure your strong muscles get you pretty far in most sports, but apparently tennis is not one of them, especially when you're up against an expert like me.” You say trying to joke around to lighten her mood.
“I wouldn’t classify a varsity tennis player as an expert, but okay.” She says with a smug look, still not facing you. She definitely did not understand your humor. 
“Clearly enough of an expert to beat you.” You shoot back. Abby grows silent and continues to sip her water. 
You sit in silence while your dad chats with Jerry, giving up on trying to make conversation with Abby. Eventually Jerry and your father stand up ready to finish the game. You and your dad beat them miserably. The game only ended because the sun started to go down, the country club quickly emptying out for the day. 
Your dad and Jerry suggest you all get washed up in the locker rooms before leaving. They walk away from the tennis court side by side talking and laughing while you and Abby walk behind them in almost total silence. Once the group reaches the locker rooms the two dads turn to you and Abby. 
“Would it be ok if me and Jerry grab a drink together? Abby can take you home in Jerry’s car.” The absolute last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a small car with this mean blonde, but you smiled and nodded. 
“See you later kiddo.” Your dad smiles and tussles your hair before walking into the locker room. 
You walk into the locker room as well, planning to just keep your distance from Abby for as long as you could until you were stuck with her in a tiny car. You can hear her heavy footsteps follow behind you and you quickly put your bag down, grab a towel and walk towards the showers to avoid facing her. You walk into one of the stalls and turn on the shower. The warm water helps to calm you down and soothes you. You lather on the soap massaging your muscles to relieve any soreness or tension, making sure you washed all the sweat away from the match. Unfortunately you have to be quick because you don’t want to make Abby any more annoyed than she was. 
As you step out and begin to dry yourself off you realized you forgot your change of clothes. 
Fuck.
You wrap the towel around you tightly and make your way to the lockers. Abby is sitting on the bench in the middle lacing up her shoes. Thank god she was looking down. You scramble over to your bag and grab your clothes out. You turn to head back to the showers to change in peace but Abby’s voice stops you.
“You took fucking forever.” She’s not looking at you, which you have observed to be a habit of hers. 
“Didn’t want to stink up your car. Is that ok with you?” Abby scoffs, but says nothing in response. 
“Seriously what the fuck did I do to you?” You blurt out, exasperated. You’re not usually this confrontational, but you felt like you deserved an answer. “I have barely had a conversation with you and for some reason you seem to have a problem with me or something.” 
Abby stands up angrily to face you and you had almost forgotten you were wearing a towel until she looked at you up and down with wide eyes. “You weren’t even gonna get dressed before asking me that question?” She sounds genuinely pissed off. Was everything you did an inconvenience? 
“Doesn’t matter, just answer it.” You look her straight in the eyes, challenging her. 
“Fine. You really wanna know?” You nod “I barely had a conversation with you and I could tell you were a brat.” As she’s talking she starts walking towards you, you didn’t even realize you were backing away until you felt the cool metal lockers against your skin. “You have an attitude problem, you know that? You don’t know when to shut the fuck up” She’s close, too close, she’s looking directly down at you daring you to respond. 
“Are you fucking kidding me? You were the one who started being rude to me.” You refuse to break eye contact with her, trying to intimidate her from your height was ineffective, she wasn’t backing down. “What are you gonna do?” You ask boldly, tilting your head inviting her to answer. “Teach me a lesson? We both know you’re not gonna do anything, so just let me get dressed so I can get home and never see you again.” She doesn’t respond, the only sound was you and Abby’s synchronized breaths as she stared at you with a fire in her eyes. Her stare somehow made you feel more naked than you already were, making you overly aware of the fact that you were wearing a towel that was starting to slip down. 
“You have no idea what you’re asking for sweetheart.” She says almost breathlessly. The anger in her eyes quickly turns into a hunger when she looks down at your towel slowly slipping off your body. You’re holding on to the towel for dear life. 
“Fuck.” Abby says breathlessly before doing the absolute last thing you could have expected. She kisses you. Hard. 
You let out a surprised squeak and quickly back away, both of your chests heaving. You look in her eyes and see a desperation and hunger that’s almost scary, but for some reason you kiss her back. Abby melts into you and threads her fingers into your hair. You place your hands gently against her chest as she pushes you further against the lockers with her strong body. Her hands slowly travel down to the towel barely maintaining your dignity. She gently pries your hands from the soft material and rips it off throwing it across the room, keeping her lips on yours the entire time. You barely notice the cool air against your bare skin, she is so close to you you can feel her body heat radiate through her clothing. 
Abby uses her foot to move yours outward, spreading your legs enough for her to slot her thigh between them. You moan into her mouth the moment her strong thigh makes contact with your bare cunt. You start slowly writhing against her, trying to relive the ache that was growing in your center. Abby breaks away and looks down at you desperately grinding on her thigh. “You’re already so wet for me sweetheart. Barely had to do anything.” She smiles smugly as she watches you become a moaning mess, her thigh creating a perfect pressure against your clit. 
Abby starts kissing you down your neck, occasionally sucking on the sensitive skin, the feeling of her rough tongue causing you to whimper. She begins circling her fingers around your nipples, teasing them, before pinching them and rolling them between her fingers. You begin to move faster against her thigh and the pleasure in your belly begins to build. Your moaning starts to become louder as you begin to reach your high. Abby notices and moves her thigh further against you, putting even more pressure on your sensitive bud. “You close baby?” You nod and whine, desperate for any kind of release. You start moving faster against Abby’s thigh and your pleasure quickly hits its peak. It comes crashing against you in overwhelming waves, forcing loud moans from your lips. Abby eventually puts her leg down and backs away slightly, before kneeling in front of you. Before you can ask any questions she grabs one of your legs, hooks it around her shoulder and licks a stripe up your soaking cunt. You hiss through your teeth, sensitive from your first orgasm. She begins teasing your clit with her tongue and you have to thread your fingers into her hair for something to hold on to. 
You barely manage to whimper out, “Abs-fuck- I-I’m too sen-senitive.” 
She stops for a second and looks up at you. The sight of her kneeling between your legs is nearly enough to have you coming again. “You can take it baby, gonna make you come until you can’t give me that attitude anymore.” And with that she starts lapping at your cunt once again. She sucks your clit into her mouth, her tongue circling your sensitive bud. You let out a surprised whine, your chest heaving from the intense sensation. Abby’s hands grab hold of your hips, bring you closer to her mouth. 
You can feel another orgasm building as Abby rubs her thumbs in circles against your skin. You begin uncontrollably writhing against her tongue, but Abby quickly uses her grip on your hips to pin you firmly against the lockers forcing you to remain still. The action caused your pleasure to bubble over. “Abby-”, you whine out “-ffuck-fuck.” 
She keeps assaulting your clit through your orgasm, not slowing down. As you begin to come down, you become sensitive again and try to wriggle away from her. She pins your hips against the lockers and looks up at you with a stern look in her eyes. She wasn’t going to stop until you couldn’t even hold yourself up. 
She shoves two fingers inside of you causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion. Her digits slid in easily, your arousal now dripping down your thighs. She curls her fingers forward causing you to have to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 
“Don’t you fucking dare bite your lip I want everyone to be able to hear you screaming for me sweetheart.” You clench around her thick fingers at her words and Abby takes that as a sign to keep talking. “You’re taking me so well princess. Think I can add another finger?” You nod eagerly at her in response. “Use your words baby.”
“Y-yes pl-please yes.” With your pathetic reply she adds another finger, filling you to the brim. She fucks you at a steady pace occasionally looking up at you to watch your face scrunch up in pleasure. She begins sucking hard on your clit causing you to let out a pornographic moan. She speeds up her fingers, hitting your g-spot with each thrust. Little moans and whimpers were escaping your lips every time her fingers hit that spongy spot. Your walls began clenching around Abby’s fingers and she knew you were close. Your orgasm hit you quickly and caught you by surprise, your whole body feeling the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. You’re not even sure what noises you were making or what you were saying, the pleasure was so blinding all you could do was buck your hips into Abby’s mouth. You were being held up exclusively by Abby’s grip on your hips. She stands up and quickly scoops you up bridal style to sit you down on the bench. She helps you get dressed and you could barely protest, she reduced you to jello. Abby stands up and offers her hand to help you up. You oblige and as you stand up she says “Need you to teach me your tennis skills sometime.” Weirdly she’s smiling. 
You can’t help but smirk, “Yeah? Well it’s gonna cost you and I don’t take sexual favors as payment.” 
563 notes · View notes
healmydesires · 7 months
Text
you’re my medicine ꕤ (a.s)
Tumblr media
pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader
summary: you’re convinced you don’t like anakin, and that he loves to get under your skin. but one summer, you find out just how wrong you’ve been.
genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni) modern/lifeguards!au
word count: 16,5k+ (oops... bon appétit)
tags/warnings: frenemies/enemies to lovers (it’s one sided but oh well 🫣), miscommunication, assumed unrequited love from both sides, reader described as shorter than anakin, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, an oc as readers best friend, inexperienced/virgin!reader, a bit of thigh riding, unprotected sex, piv sex, loss of virginity, soft!dom anakin, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), kinda pleasure!dom? idk… I just love pleasure doms, multiple orgasms, creampie, a bit of daddy kink, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, lots of pet names.
a/n: hellooo this is my very first anakin fic. this idea came up to me when I couldn’t sleep and I just. had to fantasise about it… and eventually I just. started writing it. anyways anakin is a new special interest and I’m literally obsessed with him. I just love him sm. ALSO! the title is inspired by bisous by aya nakamura! it’s a french song and I just. associate it a lot with him. hehe anyways ,, hope u enjoy <3 🥺
please don't forget to interact or reblog <3 thank u for reading <3 🥰 if u can, let me know if you’ve enjoyed it, it encourages me a lot!
AO3 • masterlist • playlist
Aquasplash, a water park in the south of France, near the French Riviera. Around sixty kilometres from Nice located in a city called Fréjus. 
Every summer, you come down to the south for eight weeks, to work as a lifeguard. The water park held too many children, multiple variations of slides, impressive sized pools and Anakin Skywalker.
Unbelievable. 
He’s always here during summer. Every year for the last three years and you can’t seem to understand why he keeps coming back to this particular place. It’s not like there aren’t any water parks overseas.
You can’t stand him sometimes. You know that hate is a strong word. One you try not to use often. But the frustration you feel whenever Anakin is around you consumes you to the point where you can’t even spare him a look sometimes. 
You don’t necessarily dislike the man, it’s just that he gets on your nerves in such a unique way and you can’t stand it. You truly can’t remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed his company.
He’s so charming, flirty, arrogant and just overall obnoxious. For some reason, he tries to make your life difficult. It can’t be for nothing. He thinks he can just come into your favourite summer job and sweet talk his way up to becoming one of the assistant managers. The job that you so desperately wanted, ripped away from you by the prettiest and most self-assured man you’ve ever met. All in the year when you thought you could become friends.
He ruined it all.
Yet, he’s still trying to be nice to you since day one. Too nice. You can’t seem to understand why someone would try to make you like them when all you did was being rude to them.
Either way, Anakin Skywalker is a fucking menace.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
It is early in the morning, the heat is already rising, warm and hazy, promising a hot summer day. 
You drive out of the centre of the city, the sun shining, windows down and the radio blasting your favourite pop song at the moment as you hum along to the tune. 
Once you see the “Aquasplash” sign you take the first turn right, moving off the main road, slowly following the small road towards the water park’s entrance. The sound of gravel crumbling underneath the wheels of your car gives you a nostalgic feeling. Bringing you back to when you would come here with your family every summer. 
As you pull your car into the staff parking lot of the water park and turn off the engine, you exhale loudly before closing your eyes briefly. You enjoy the short moment of peace as you listen to your surroundings. All you can hear are the seagulls squawking in the distance and the buzz of insects around you. 
“There’s my favourite princess.”
There goes your peace and quiet.
You swear under your breath, “fucking hell,” as you let your head fall against the top of your steering wheel. You slowly open your eyes as you give him a side glance.
Anakin is leaning against the right side of his car, staring at you with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. 
“Skywalker.” you greet him rather unfriendly, your voice filled with annoyance.
He shakes his head with a chuckle. “You don’t seem that happy to see me.”
“Nope.” 
A frown forms on his face, but as quickly as it appeared it vanishes. He composes himself and a grin replaces it. “Ouch! You wound me sweetheart, I thought you’d miss me.” 
“Missing you? Boy please.” You scoff and roll your eyes before you push your car door open, hitting Anakin softly with your door, pushing him out of your way after you take your duffle bag out of the passenger’s seat. 
You don’t spare him another glance as you make your way to the entrance of the park, locking your car with a press of a button. 
“I know you’re lying!” He shouts before you hear him follow you. 
This time you don’t reply. Too annoyed to give him your time of day. Anakin loves to bother you, loves having your attention on him at all times. You’re aware you’re a stubborn person and it never seems to make him stop to try and get you to look at him, to notice him.
You head towards the office near the entrance of the park. As you enter the building you notice that it’s full. You smile as you recognise some of your colleagues from last year and you wave at them.
You hear a familiar voice calling out for you and you can’t help but squeal as you see that it’s Padmé Amidala. You quickly drop your bag as you both envelope each other in a big hug.
“I’ve missed you so much!” She cheers as she squeezes you close to her. 
“Not as much as I missed you.” You smile as you pull away, winking at her.
“Impossible.” She tsks playfully. Her eyes move to Anakin who stands behind you and she gives him a friendly smile. “Hi Anakin.”
Anakin greets Padmé, before making his way further in the room. He comes to stand close to Obi Wan who is once again the manager for the summer.
“Alright, now that everyone has arrived, let’s get started with everyone’s assigned tasks and positions.” 
As he starts talking you zone out, still feeling quite tired from your long drive yesterday to the south coast. Padmé smiles knowingly as she sneaks a glance at you. 
Around fifteen minutes pass and he’s still going giving everyone orientation and their assignments, until you hear him call out your name. 
“Yes?” You blink as you make eye contact with him.
“You and Anakin are partners for the summer.”
“What?” You exclaim. You can’t believe what you’re hearing.
You see from your peripheral view Anakin smiling at you cheekily and you can’t help but move your face to his direction, narrowing your eyes at him. He shrugs at your expression and then returns his attention back to his friend.
“What this means for you two,” Obi Wan continues with a smile as you huff out in protest, “is that you will have to share most posts together.” He says as he hands out your timetable. 
“Alright, is this all?” You ask impatiently. 
“Yes—”
You sigh and roll your eyes dramatically before grabbing your bag and your friend’s hand, tugging her along with you, making her chuckle as you walk out the building to go to the changing rooms. Your colleagues shuffle out slowly afterwards. 
“Not a word.” you grumble.
Padmé’s eyes shine mischievously, as she presses her lips into a thin line in mock seriousness and makes a motion to zip her mouth with the hand you’re not holding.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
So far, the first two weeks are uneventful.
Every day whenever the visitors arrive, you are constantly busy. You’ve switched posts here and there but other than that nothing worth mentioning happened so far.
Anakin and you have been sharing the same posts but not that much either so it has been a rather peaceful two weeks for you. 
But this afternoon, you’re partnered with him again to observe the main pool of the water park together. 
“I don’t get it,” your colleague and one of your best friends, Padmé, smirks, eyeing you as she’s sitting at the table in one of the staff's kitchens while you slice strawberries for the both of you. “Anakin isn’t as bad as you make him to be.”
“Padmé…” you groan annoyingly before you continue, “that’s because he didn’t take the job you so desperately wanted for so long.” You’re already tired of this conversation, and it barely started.
Maybe it’s your own fault, for comparing yourself to him or that you resent him for getting that job. You’re quite literally aware of how childish it sounds, but you can’t seem to care. You know how much you deserved that job. 
Your friend rolled her eyes at your words. “You should really let this go, it’s not healthy. Besides… It's been two years—”
You cut her off instantly, continuing your rant. “He can’t just come here and take everything from me. He is already one of the best swimmers and lifeguards out there. He is so fucking ‘pretty’ and smart, he always gets whatever he fucking wants anyways. What else does he want?” 
You tangle your fingers through your hair in frustration as you sigh loudly. 
“Maybe…” she begins hesitantly and your gaze meets hers. “Maybe, he didn’t want to steal this ‘job’ from you. Ever thought that he wanted this job just as much as you?”
You scoff but she continues with a small smile. “And perhaps, my dear friend, you should try and be friendly with him. I meant when I said it isn’t healthy to hold such a grudge for two years. He is only trying to be nice to you.”
“Yeah sure,” you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest. “He’s too confident around me, trying to get under my skin at all times.”
“Under your skin? I think he just likes you.” Padmé says with a smug smile.
“L-likes me?” You splutter as you feel your cheeks burn hot. 
Your friend shrugs nonchalantly, “it seems obvious to me.” 
Padmé isn’t right, she can’t be. 
“Anakin Skywalker doesn’t like me. Nor do I like him.” You whisper harshly as you sit down across from her with your plate full of strawberries.
“Of course.” She says as she grabs a strawberry from your plate, her voice sounding nothing but sarcastic as she rolls her eyes for the second time since she started this conversation. 
“What?” You level her with a glare. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you’re in denial, that's what.” She says impatiently.
Before you can even reply back, the man himself enters the room with a wide smile. You can’t help but stare at him as he greets the both of you. He’s wearing a white shirt that stretches across his chest, with the blue logo of the water park centred in the middle and red swimming trunks. His hair looks messy but he looks so beautiful, it’s unfair. The fact that he let his hair grow out makes him even more pretty. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him attractive, he’s extremely handsome but you would never admit that to anyone out loud. During the time that you spent observing him, eyes trailing up and down the tall length of him, you didn’t notice how Anakin did the same to you.
“Ready to get back to work?” He asks rather enthusiastically. 
“Sure, Anakin. I’m still on my break though. Let me finish eating and I’m good to go.”
His face lights up at your words. He doesn’t say anything and just regards you with a small smile as he leans against the nearest wall.
“What?” You feel yourself grow warm under his mirthful stare. Feeling rather embarrassed as he looks at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He shrugs, the smile not leaving his face. “You never call me by my name.”
You stare up at him, suddenly confused. You think about what he just said, trying to recall a time where you would call him by his first name. But you don’t remember anything. You always call him by his last name or ‘skyguy’. Heat overwhelms your body at the realisation.
“Well, okay. Don’t make me regret it.” You try to say as nonchalant as you can while trying to avoid looking at anyone, instead staring down your plate. 
You don’t have to look at Padmé to know that she’s staring at you, her smirk dripping with amusement. 
“I won’t,” He winks before moving away from the wall. “See you at the main pool, sweetheart.” He says with a wave as he leaves the room completely. 
You feel relieved once he’s gone, exhaling as you finally meet your friend’s gaze as she looks at you knowingly. “What?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs with faux innocence. 
“That look does not say nothing, Padmé.” You look at her pointedly.
The brown haired girl laughs and shakes her head. You narrow your eyes at her as she continues to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” You huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest. 
“Well, it’s funny that you’re so oblivious to each other's feelings. Your own feelings specifically.” 
Hot warmth blooms across your chest at her words, until blood rushes to your ears, but you scoff either way. “What do you mean, feelings? There are no feelings. I don’t like him.”
You say it confidently even if you could hear a tiny distant voice in the back of your head calling you a liar. You push another strawberry in your mouth as she chuckles at your words.
“You’re not fooling anyone but yourself.” She snorts. 
You both fell in silence, mostly because you’re ignoring her. By now the plate of berries is empty and all you can do is stare at it. You sigh dramatically as you pick up your plate, moving to put it in the dishwasher after rinsing it off. 
“Anyways, my break is over. I’ll see you later.” You say as you make your way to the door.
“Don’t forget, we’re going out tonight!” Padmé calls after you.
“How could I forget, you’ve been mentioning it every day at least once this week.” You smirk as she sticks her tongue out at you playfully. 
“Don’t act like you haven’t been looking forward to it.” She says as she points a finger at you. 
“Yeah, yeah… anyways, see you after work!”
“Have fun with your loverboy!”
You flip her off and all you can hear are her giggles as you leave the room.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
The air is thick with humidity, the summer heat enveloping you completely, and smells like chlorine. The sun is beaming down on you as you’re sitting on one of the big red lifeguards chairs. You’ve been observing the pool all afternoon, sometimes blowing your whistle whenever some children would do water bombs too excessively.
Anakin is leaning against your chair. You’re simultaneously looking out after all the swimmers in the pool and occasionally listening to Anakin ramble about anything he feels like sharing with you.
“Sometimes,” you ponder out loud, “I wonder why Obi Wan paired us two together and— hold on, why are you blushing?”
“W-what? I’m not blushing.” Anakin splutters as his face flushes more as he averts his gaze.
A devilish smile spreads across your face. “Sure you are.”
“I am not.” He huffs as he continues to try and avoid looking at you. He looks kind of shy all of a sudden. His face is still flushed, his eyes are bright and his plump lips look so kissable— hold on, why are you thinking about his lips? And why do you want to kiss them? You try to mentally shake the thought out of your head but the damage has already been made. You feel a hot flash of warmth spread over your whole body.
You genuinely hope that he doesn’t notice any of that. 
You raise your brows at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You tilt your head as you stare at him.
“Anakin, do you have anything to do with us being paired?” 
“Of course not,” he says quickly, looking flustered.
“Mmm yeah, sure.” You smirk, entirely entertained by the way his gaze keeps avoiding yours. His silence is enough to make you giggle but you can’t enjoy it that long though.
“Why does it matter?” He says more confidently, finally looking at you directly. “Is something up with you? I’ve noticed that you haven’t insulted me in a while.”
You blink at him as your smile fades as heat flashes your face, because you actually don’t know what to reply to him. Anakin is right, you haven’t been insulting him for at least a week. 
You don’t answer him instantly like you usually do, and he chuckles as he shakes his head at you. 
“What?” You say a bit nervously, but you quickly collect yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you roll your eyes at him. “No, of course not. I’m completely fine. In fact I’m keeping all the insults for later.”
“Uh-huh, sure you are.” He says his lips twisting to hide his amusement, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 
“Yes, I am.” You say with confidence.
He’s just watching you and you feel yourself grow warmer under his stare. Suddenly you feel very hot, feeling overwhelmingly warm. Maybe it's the summer weather, or maybe it’s something else.
As silence falls between you two it gives you a bit of time to think. About how the man is always being nice to you. Teasing you, being playful with you. The way he always tries to catch your attention. The way he loves to banter with you. 
Or how you notice a lot of things about him lately. 
Like how his skin tans so easily, how when he gets a bit too close you notice he has some green speckles in his eyes, how blue and black looks so good on him. Or how his white shirts tend to cling on him so well. Or how no matter which room he’s in, whenever he smiles he lights up the whole room. Or how the whole world seems to stop whenever he looks at you. 
You gasp as you look at him, hopping off your chair, walking closer to the tall man.
“What?” He snorts. 
“I know what you’re doing.” You narrow your eyes up at Anakin as you walk closer to him, poking a finger into his warm solid chest. 
“What am I doing exactly?” He looks down at you with an amused smile on his face, looking entirely too entertained. He’s so fucking charming, it’s infuriating you.
Your skin feels extremely flushed, a bit damp, your hair is sticking to your neck and sweat is beading at your chest, your skin and red bikini clinging to your shirt. 
“Stop being—” You stumble over your breath, as it hitches in your throat, realising that you’re both standing way too close to each other. You are close enough that you can see the outline of his features, the faint slope of his nose, his jawline, or the scar near his right eye. Both of your chests are almost brushing, his warmth radiating off on you. 
“Stop being what? Or rather, doing what?” He says, a smile still on his face. Why is he still smiling?
You try to put some distance again between the both of you, but as you do you almost trip, and his arms move quickly, hands coming to steady you on your waist. 
“Careful sweetheart, don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 
“What?” A sense of panic envelopes you as you realise that his hands are still on you. Anakin’s hands feel warm and wide as his palms rest on you, over your shirt. His touch feels dizzying and it feels as if you are growing warmer by the second. 
“Angel—”
“No,” You shake your head frantically, as you push his hands off you. “Stop being so nice to me all the time, stop trying to distract me, stop giving me all those pet names. Just stop. I know what you’re trying to do.” He looks at you with wide eyes as you’re going off on a rant, not able to stop. “You’re trying to get to know everything about me, trying to be all nice so I let my guard down so you can just strike and take, just like you did last time.”
He looks down at the space between the both of you, tilting his head to the side as he frowns. 
“Sweetheart, what do you mean last time?” 
“You know exactly what I mean.” You mumble as you look away.
“No I don’t.” Genuine confusion and concern graces his features. “Also, am I truly distracting you?”
“Huh?” Your cheeks flush with warmth at his words as simultaneously you feel your anxiety bubbling up inside you, embarrassment overwhelming you. 
“You said I’m distracting—”
“I didn’t,” you cut him off nervously as the warmth in your face continued to rise, still not sparing him a glance. 
Anakin says your name in such a soft manner, as he tries to get you to look at him. Suddenly you have had enough of this conversation. Thankfully the loudspeakers announce that the park is closing in half an hour, saving you from talking more about the subject.
“I’d love to stay and chat but I have other places to be!” You say hurriedly as you quickly walk away from him. You ignore him as he calls out after you multiple times, determined to get home as quickly as you can so you could start and enjoy your weekend off. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You’re slowly swirling your straw in your favourite cocktail as you’re staring off in the distance, while you’re sitting on a lounge sofa at the new and fancy rooftop bar Padmé convinced you both to go to. Everything feels a bit hazy, probably because of the alcohol that’s warming up your body or maybe it’s the dimmed colourful lightning and the smoke that hangs a bit in the air. 
Your thoughts keep wandering off to earlier today, about the way Anakin looked so confused and how concerned he was when you had your whole rant in front of him. He genuinely looked like he didn’t know what you were talking about when you insinuated that he hurt you last time. What if he actually didn’t know—
You feel your friend nudge you as your thoughts continue to wander. “Did you hear what I just said?”
“Huh?” You blink as you look at her. You were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear what she was talking to you about. “No, I’m sorry. Could you please repeat it?”
“Alright,” Padmé sighed. “What happened earlier?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumble as you avoid her gaze.
“Come on,” Padmé whispers your name, “I know something happened between you and Anakin.”
You exhale loudly, staring at your drink, shrugging. “There’s nothing much to talk about.” 
“Okay, well. If you eventually feel like talking about it, let me know.” She gives you a small smile.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you give her a grateful smile back as you squeeze her hand that’s closest to yours. 
You pull away, leaning against the sofa as you enjoy the last bits of light. The air is still warm, as the sun is setting. You can still hear the soft relaxing music in the background despite the amount of people talking over it. You close your eyes for a moment as you feel a breeze hitting your face, caressing your skin and hair. You desperately needed a night out and you’re thankful for Padmé picking out this location. 
“Man, I truly needed this.” You chuckle after you take a sip of your drink. 
“You mean going out?” Padmé smirks, “I knew you’d love it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” You roll your eyes playfully, “you told me so.” 
“Damn right I did.” She smiles cheekily. “You always love going out.”
“Not as much as staying at home though.” You argue as your lips curl into a smirk. 
“True, true.” 
You both talk and properly catch up, finally taking the time to hear each other's stories since the last time you’ve been able to do so was months ago. She laughs as you tell her about all your dating experiences from the past year. Your dating life is quite literally a disaster. You can’t seem to find someone in life that you can truly connect with. No matter what gender. You either end up with another friend or the dates just stay at the first date. You crave a true connection. Someone you can truly be yourself with. Someone that you can talk to about anything and everything and someone that is truly there for you.
Minutes later your eyes stray from hers for a moment as you look across the bar, your smile slowly fading as you recognise Anakin and Obi Wan stepping out of the elevator that led to the rooftop. You feel your body flush with heat as you make eye contact with Anakin. You hate the way your body reacts whenever he’s around. It’s been reacting to him a lot more lately. He looks so incredibly handsome, annoyingly so, like he always does, but the lightning makes him look even more pretty. He smiles and gives you a quick wave before he leans closer to Obi Wan. He murmurs something in his friend’s ear as he gestures to the direction Padmé and you are sitting. 
“What are they doing here?” You question as you continue to stare into their direction. 
Padmé grins sheepishly at you after she looked behind her. 
You narrow your eyes at your friend suspiciously. “You have something to do with this?”
“I may have invited them…” she flushes as she bites her lip.
“Why?” You groan.
You don’t care that you sound whiny, or that your voice sounds a bit panicked, you just don’t feel like spending a whole evening or night with Anakin Skywalker. A moment that was supposed to be relaxing. 
“Because, we both like them. They are our friends.” She exclaims.
You’re not happy, or at least you convince yourself that you aren’t. But you don’t feel like arguing with Padmé right now. You decide at that moment that the both of you deserve to have a fun evening together and if you have to spend it with Anakin too then so be it. 
“How did you let them know where we were?” You raise one of your brows at her.
“I texted them?” She looks at you as if you asked her the most ridiculous question in the world.
“Okay, yeah, stupid question.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.
“You know, you could always ask for Anakin's number. I’m pretty sure he’d give it to you happily. You’re his favourite girl after all.” She smiles deviously.
You huff, shaking your head in the process. “I don’t need—”
“Hey,” Obi Wan smiles as he greets the two of you, “sorry it took us so long.”
You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, you truly hope they didn’t hear what Padmé said. You greet them with a small smile and you finally look at Anakin, finding him already looking at you. He greets you with a small “hi” as he smiles before you see his eyes scan your outfit. 
You’ve spent a good hour looking through all the clothes you brought along with you, debating which outfit would be the best for a night out. You wanted to look hot. So in the end you decided on wearing a black dress, one of those corset dresses with a deep plunge, with a thigh slit on the left side of the dress. You also have dark heels on, not too high but not that low either. You normally don’t like wearing heels, preferring your comfortable white sneakers, but Padmé insisted that wearing sneakers under such a pretty dress is a no-go. Plus you have a small black shoulder bag that’s sitting at your feet. As for your makeup, you’re wearing dark nude eyeshadow with smoked eyeliner, and on your lips you have some pinky nude shiny lip gloss. 
You feel your body grow warmer under his gaze, and you can’t help but feel a bit shy and insecure. You don’t understand why, but you kind of crave his approval.
You’re taking in his outfit. He is wearing a white button-up shirt, his chest a bit more exposed and you have to force yourself not to look too long. You don’t want him to notice that you’re looking at his chest. He’s also wearing some nice blue jeans, the kind that just look good on anyone.
Padmé calls out your name, and as you face her she is already smirking at you. You can’t help but roll your eyes at her.
Anakin clears his throat, “we’re getting drinks, do you guys need anything?” 
“No, we’re good. Thanks for asking.” Padmé smiles.
As both men leave to go to the bar, she turns to you once again. 
“What was that?” Padmé smirks with amusement. 
“What do you mean?” You mumble as you avert your eyes to your lap.
“Don’t act like you weren't staring at each other.” She says with a laugh. 
You sigh heavily, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Oh come on now.” She rolls her eyes playfully.
Before you can say anything back to your friend, you hear your name being called. Your eyes widen as you recognise that voice from anywhere. You quickly whip in your seat as you see one of your best friends standing there, Javier. 
“No way?” You gasp before quickly making your way over to your friend to hug him. “Is this real?” 
He chuckles as he envelopes you in a big hug. “I am very real, yes.” 
Javier is one of your closest friends besides Padmé that you’ve made since working at Aquasplash. He is a Puerto Rican exchange student that came to France to study Engineering. He worked with you for two summers straight until he moved back. You missed him terribly and hadn’t seen him for at least two and a half years. He’s always been a person that could make you feel important. He had a sense of humour that actually made you laugh. He’s one of the smartest people you’ve ever met. A lot of people think you guys have feelings for each other but all the love you have for the man is purely platonic. 
“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you chuckle as you pull back to look up at him.
“I missed you too, buddy.” He smiles warmly.
“How long are you staying?” You ask him hoping he isn’t here for a couple of days.
“I’m here on vacation for at least two months, so we can hang out as much as you’d like.” 
“Ah finally, I almost thought you wouldn’t show up tonight.” Padmé says with a teasing look as she crosses her arms, still in her seat.
“You knew?” You gasp.
“Surprise?” She smiles sheepishly. The two of you laugh at her words. 
“All these secrets.” You tsk playfully as you shake your head at Padmé. 
A moment later Obi Wan and Anakin both return with drinks. The bearded man smiles brightly as he recognises your best friend.
“Oh, hi Javier,” Obi Wan says, “it’s been a long time. How have you been?”
As both Javier and Obi Wan are catching up, your eyes almost automatically drift to Anakin. His eyes are almost narrowing at how close you and Javier are standing. You look at him quizzically before he looks away and sits down across from your original seat. 
You wonder why he was looking at the both of you like that. He looked almost jealous? You’re certain that couldn’t be the case, because you’re sure he doesn’t genuinely like you or feel about you in a romantic way. Besides, it’s not like you care. You don’t have much time to think about it, because Padmé gestures to you to come back to your seat, patting the space next to hers.
Once you are back in your seat your brown haired friend leans closer to you. “Javier looks so good.” Padmé whispers, loud enough for you to hear.
You snort, soon turning into a chuckle. 
“Yeah?” You ask with an amused smile. 
“Yeah,” she says as she bites her lip, hiding her shy smile. 
“Oh, do you have a crush?” Your smile turns more wicked.
“Shut up.” She groans as she slaps your arm. 
“Oh my god, you do.” You gasp.
“Quiet down,” She whispers as she looks around her, making sure that no one else hears them.
You giggle at her antics. “It’s okay, I think he has a crush on you too.”
“Really? You think so?” She asks with hopeful eyes.
Your smile turns soft as you nod. “Yeah, I’m sure. He tends to always look like a lovesick puppy around you.”
“You’re lying.” She pouts as she blushes furiously.
“Of course not.” You say as you look at her seriously. 
“Hmh,” she looks at you in disbelief. As if you’re still not being truthful with her.
“Don’t tell him I told you this but,” you whisper as you look around you before continuing, “he talked about you a lot whenever we would hang out.” 
You wouldn’t expose your friend like that if it wasn’t for a greater cause. You’re tired of the fact that two of your closest friends are pining after each other. Especially since now you know that Padmé has feelings for Javier too. 
“No way.” Her eyes go wide at the information. 
“Yes way.” You nod with a smile.
“Okay,” she bites her lip as the blush on her cheeks turns darker. “You think I should make a move?”
“Definitely, I think you should.”
A couple of moments later, Javier comes to sit next to Padmé. “What are you two talking about?”
You lean closer to the side as you make eye contact with your other friend. “Nothing you should concern yourself with.” You say quickly with the most saccharine smile ever. 
“Rude,” he pouts dramatically. “Is this how you treat your best friend who you haven’t seen in over two years?” 
You stick your tongue at him playfully in response. 
After a few drinks and the night turning darker, as the stars in the sky become more visible, the air is still quite warm, you start to feel extremely at ease. Conversations flowed easily with all of you and it was truly a good feeling to be talking to everyone. Even Anakin. Especially him. 
You’ve all been talking for almost two hours. And in those two hours, you’ve learned a lot about Anakin. Just like Javier, he’s studying engineering. The only difference is he's still studying abroad. He lives in Amsterdam apparently, which is your dream city to one day move into. He would laugh in such a sweet way as your eyes would widen at the information or your interest in the city. Would answer all your questions about one of your favourite cities in the world. 
Or how you learned how much he loves to read during his free time. Or his favourite music, specifically how he is a huge fan of Coldplay. He loves all kinds of music. He said he can’t stick to one music genre. There’s so much more that you’ve learned about him.
The more you know about him, the less you dislike him. The less he irritates you. Maybe after all this time, the irritation was something else entirely, buried under the false pretence of dislike. Most likely it was just pure jealousy. You used to genuinely like him. He always makes you feel things in such a furious way. He makes you think about him constantly. No, you know that deep down it wasn’t just jealousy, it was more than that. 
You know something has changed for you. What exactly, you don’t want to face yet. For now, you blame the atmosphere. Something in the air is making things shift around, feel different.
It’s only after you’ve emptied your second or third cocktail, you honestly have no idea, that Javier announces that all of you should do a game of truth or dare.
It’s as if the universe wants to play with you.
“Oh my god, no.” You groan.
“What’s up princess?” Anakin says with a teasing  smile. “You got anything to hide?” 
“W-what? No, of course not.” You stutter as you feel your body burn hot at his words.
“He does have a point.” Javier says as he tries to stifle a laugh.
“You should be on my side!” You exclaim dramatically. 
Padmé snorts next to you.
You turn to look at Padmé, narrowing your eyes at her. “What about you?”
“I mean…” she shrugs as she tries to fight off the smirk on her face.
“Great.” You turn to look across from you, ignoring the way Anakin is smiling mischievously as he looks at you. “I guess I don’t have to ask for your thoughts on this?” You ask Obi Wan.
The man shrugs and you huff.
“I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”
You groan at his words.
“Come on, don’t be so dramatic.” Javier laughs. You look at him in a fake menacing way which makes your friend laugh even more. “Alright, alright. I will spare you, for now.” He gives you a look that says nothing but danger.
“How generous of you.” You huff, rolling your eyes at him. 
“You’re first,” your best friend says as he looks at you. “You get to choose whoever you want.”
“Nice,” you say with a devilish grin. You’re thankful that you have some time to mentally prepare yourself for once it’s your turn. Because you are certain that if it’s Padmé’s or Javier’s turn that you’re doomed. 
“Uh-oh,” Padmé says with apprehension. 
“Javier,” you start, the man groaning loudly at the mention of his name. “Ok, hold on, why am I not allowed to be dramatic but you are?”
“I’m not being dramatic.” He scoffs, as if you had the audacity to accuse him of such a thing.
“Anyways,” you roll your eyes. “Truth or dare?” 
“Dare,” he picks unhesitatingly.
You snicker at his choice. You pretend to think for a second before you clear your throat, “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in our group.”
Javier’s eyebrows rise together at your bold request. While Padmé blushes bright red next to you. Obi Wan is smirking as he looks at your two best friends. Anakin on the other hand, is frowning. You have no idea why though.
“Is that the dare?” He hesitates.
“Yep,” you smile brightly. 
“You sure?” He questions again.
You sigh heavily. “Javier, you’re the one that wanted to play this game.” 
He gulps before he looks down at the brown haired girl who sits in between the two of you. He moves closer to Padmé, cupping her cheek. “Is this okay?” Javier checks in with her. 
Padmé nods her head shyly but without any hesitation. He says something under his breath that you can’t seem to catch before his lips connect with hers in a gentle kiss. Her arms move instantly, as she wraps them around his neck. 
You whistle as the kiss between them gets a bit more deeper. Eventually they pull away as they gasp for air. Their foreheads are touching as they look at each other with small satisfied smiles. 
“Finally.” You clap your hands as you smile with so much happiness, because your friends finally made a move on each other. You might’ve pushed them into the right direction, but you’re happy that they are showing their affection for each other now.
“You’re dangerous, girl.” Padmé laughs as she turns her head to look at you. But she looks truly thankful for what you did.
“Just doing God’s work.” You say with feigned innocence as you shrug. 
“Before we continue, who wants another drink?” Obi Wan asks the rest of you as he stands up from his seat.
“Me!” You say a bit too quickly and loudly as you stand up from your seat, adjusting your dress as it rides up.
Obi Wan chuckles. He asks the rest of the group what they want as you write down everything down on your notes app so you don’t forget. 
Once you have the orders down, you both make your way to the bar. You feel a pair of eyes on you as you walk away. A chill goes down your spine as you have a feeling who is looking at you. In fact you know you don’t have to turn your head to know that it’s most likely Anakin.
As you reach the bar, you lean over it and try to get one of the bartender's attention. It’s a bit busy, three other people are trying to order at the same time. One of them gives you a nod of acknowledgement, before he comes down to where you two are. Once he takes your order and you’ve paid for it, and leaves, Obi Wan clears his throat.
You raise your head, to look at him expectantly. “Hmm?”
“You know, I’m aware of how frustrated you are that Anakin got the assistant manager position and that you didn’t.” He says carefully. “They picked him because they felt like he was the most qualified.”
You feel slight irritation but mostly embarrassment bubbling up inside you at his words. As you’re about to open your mouth he continues.
“But I feel as if I am inclined to tell you this though.” He starts, “Anakin had a lot of other proposals from other workplaces for summer, other than Aquasplash. A lot of better ones actually. But still, he decided to take on this one.” 
Your mouth drops slightly at the new information. Why would he want to come back every year if he had better places to work at. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone knows that Anakin is insanely smart and talented. Plus, why would he travel so far just to work at a place every summer with a person like you. Someone that’s been rude to him most of the time. 
“Why?” You frown.
“Why do you think so?” He asks with a small smile. 
You laugh, still puzzled as you shake your head “I don’t know?”
“Sure,” he says as he gives you a look.
Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed as you think about all the moments where Anakin’s always been nice to you, even when you’re nothing but an asshole to him. The way he always tries to catch your attention. Trying to make you laugh. Or the way he loves to spend time with you even if you’re being mean to him. How playful he is. How he loves to tease you or how he seems to only have eyes for you lately. For years actually. Or when his smile would either brighten or soften whenever you enter the room or space he’s in. Or the longing looks he would give you sometimes. 
No. You must be imagining things. 
Your eyes widen as you look at Obi Wan again. You search for a reaction that tells you that you’re wrong. But he just smiles at you knowingly.
You don’t know how or why your feelings for Anakin seem to have shifted so much, all you know is that any trace of hatred you had towards him has disappeared, wiped away to make room for something else. Deep down, you know that this was all just a facade. You’re never truly angry with him. You never disliked him. It was all an act to protect how you always truly cared for or liked him. The feelings you so desperately tried to push away, a feeling that could only be described by a four lettered word. A feeling that might have been around for a long while.
And you’re sure you ruined everything, because you’re such an asshole. 
Suddenly you feel a tightness in your chest. Your breath is turning shallow and ragged and you hear your ears start ringing. It feels as if the sky could be falling down on you any second.
Concern flashes through Obi Wan’s face as he notices a shift in your behaviour.
“Are you okay?”
“I—” you try to speak. “I-I need to go. I’m sorry.” You say hurriedly before you walk away as fast as you can, in need for a moment to be alone.
“Hey, wait,” he calls your name out.
You don’t know why you always feel like running away whenever you’re confronted with something big like your feelings but you know you can’t look or speak to anyone at the moment.
You desperately need to be alone even if it is just for a little while. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You don’t know how, but somehow, you ended up at the beach. The moment you leave the building your phone has been vibrating non stop, not reducing your anxiety at all. So once you sit down on the sand you put your phone on silent after sending one message to Padmé that you’re safe, ignoring all the other texts and missed calls. 
You didn’t stray that far from the bar, which isn’t that far from the coast, only a couple of hundred metres.
Your mind starts to wander back to Anakin, the man that you so desperately tried to dislike for years. Which was all a facade for how you truly feel.
You think about how the fact that the one person that you’ve ever fallen in love with deserves better than someone like you that has been mean to him for years all because of something so stupid. 
You wish you could go back in time, so you never held a grudge in the first place. So you could actually allow yourself to enjoy being around him, to think of him. 
You groan as you feel tears well in your eyes again as the thoughts consume you almost completely. 
“Things will be okay,” you whisper to yourself as you try to regulate your breathing while also mentally calming yourself down. 
You decide to focus on the sea.
Looking at the sea somehow never fails to calm you down, the sound of the body of water grounds you. As you watch the waves crash every time they hit the shore, you feel your anxiety gradually dying down.
You dig your bare feet in the sand, your heels long forgotten as they sit next to you. At the moment you don’t really care that you'll be covered in sand by the time you leave. The beach, specifically this one, brings you so much nostalgia. 
Brings you back to when you were a child.
You briefly close your eyes as you inhale the smell of the sea, exhaling a couple of moments later, releasing a bit of anxiety at the motion. You smile as you feel your body gradually relaxing as more tension dissipates, finally feeling a bit more at peace.
A couple of moments later after you feel your anxiety die down, you feel someone’s presence as they come to sit next to you. 
Unhurriedly you open your eyes again before turning your head slowly. Your eyes widen as you acknowledge who is sitting next to you. As your eyes meet Anakin’s you notice that he is already staring down at you. He’s looking at you with so much concern and an emotion that looks so tender. There’s a flicker of yearning flitting through his eyes as he continues to regard you.
Your bottom lip starts wobbling as you squeeze your eyes shut as you desperately try not to cry. 
“I’m so sorry.” You finally break the silence as tears well in your eyes again as you look at him.
“Hey, shhh sweetheart, there’s no need to apologise.” He whispers as one of his hands comes to squeeze your shoulder. His touch sparks a warmth in your body, just like he did earlier that day.
“Yes there is.” You whisper as you look away, your tears falling freely now. 
“Look at me angel,” he says softly. 
He is so caring and gentle with you, you feel awful, you don’t deserve that after being so horrible with him.
“No, I’m serious,” you say as you try to wipe your tears away. “I’m so sorry for being mean to you.”
You’re crying more now, the tears streaming down your cheeks constantly, your make up leaving some tracks because of it. 
“Sweet girl,” He says as his hands come to cup your face, holding you so tenderly, as his thumbs swipe at the tears that fall from your eyes. Your sad eyes look at him as he tries to comfort you. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you. All because of something as stupid as a job position.” You whisper as you continue to cry.
“Princess, are you upset because of that?” 
“Yeah, it’s so stupid.” You nod, as you keep sobbing. “I feel so stupid. I’ve never really disliked you, it was all just bullshit. A fucking facade. And for so long I believed I didn’t like you. It’s so fucking stupid.”
“Shhh, I’m telling you right now, It’s okay, you’re not stupid. I know you feel that way right now but you’re not stupid at all. You’re one of the smartest people I know. I am not upset or angry with you, I don’t think I could.” He says as he quickly moves to wrap his arms around you, bringing you closer to him. “I’ve got you, love.”
Every time your body shakes, he holds you tighter. Eventually pulling you into his lap, as you cling to him, your hands holding onto his shirt as if you are afraid that he’d disappear. His face is buried in your hair, yours against his chest as he holds you close.
One of his hands moves to caress your head softly, as the other holds your body close to him. As his fingers continue to caress your head you find yourself being comforted by it, your sobs eventually dying down as you feel yourself relax and calm down while hugging him. 
His embrace soothes you. Anakin is truly such a  comforting person, you could hold him forever.
You slowly pull away from his chest after you’ve completely calmed down, enough to look up at him. As you stare into his eyes, you feel yourself get lost in them. He is truly, so beautiful. 
Before you realise what you’re doing, you raise one of your hands to his cheek. He closes his eyes momentarily at your touch, relishing it. Once he opens his eyes again, he watches you intently, his cheeks flushing red. You feel his heart racing while your other hand rests on his chest still. 
“Anakin,” you whisper, looking shyly up at him.
He smiles at that. “I will never get tired of you saying my name.”
“Well, I haven't really said it much.” You bite your lip as you try to keep yourself from smiling. Of course, it’s not successful.
“True, but still.” He chuckles, “I will always enjoy you saying it.”
“Hm,” you hum as your eyes shift to his lips every few seconds, “I have something to confess.”
You need to confess your feelings to him. You’ve been hiding them for years, even from yourself, now it was enough. You need him to know, even if he doesn’t feel the same way, even if you misunderstood the whole thing. He deserves the truth.
“Go ahead,” he says as his eyes bore into yours, the intensity making you unable to look away. You’re both breathing in each other's air at the moment. You feel as if you’re being pulled by a magnet, your face slowly moving closer to his.
You feel your body get overwhelmed with warmth, as you mentally prepare yourself to tell him how you feel.
“I’m in love with you,” you say nervously, your confession barely above a whisper. Time stands still in that moment, your faces only a few inches apart, his arms still holding you tight against him, one of your hands resting on his cheek and the other still on his heart. “I think I always have.”
His breath hitches at your words, leaving him momentarily speechless. He looks as if he’s processing the words. Anakin leans in then, slowly, watching for you to pull back or show any other sign of not wanting him close. 
He leans in until his forehead touches yours, and you hold in a sigh at the thought of him being so close to you, the heat of his skin radiating off of him, his scent intoxicating you and filling your senses. 
The tip of his nose nuzzles yours, his warm breath kissing your lips, less than a few centimetres away now, and you move your thumb on his cheek, stroking his skin.
“I love you baby,” he whispers, making you still your movement on his cheek as you look at him with wide eyes. Heat spreads throughout your body and your heart flutters at his words, your cheeks feeling hot. “You have no idea how much I do.” 
“I love you too, Ani.” You say shyly. The moment his nickname leaves your lips, his mouth is on yours.
He kisses you with so much passion, pouring all his affection into the kiss as he holds you tightly. The kiss reflects how much he cares and loves you. 
You gasp into his mouth, feeling him as he moves his lips with yours and pulls your body somehow impossibly closer to his, as if he’s not satisfied enough, needing you as close as you physically can. He groans into you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, and you open your mouth for him when you feel his tongue tracing your lower lip and licking into your mouth.
He moves one of his hands to come to cup your cheek as the other keeps you close, pressing you against him. He tilts his head as you moan into the kiss, deepening it.
He feels and tastes amazing, his touches feel heavenly, just perfect. You know that you will get addicted to him quickly. 
Nevermind, you already are.
He moans into the kiss, completely losing himself to the feeling, his warm tongue swirls in your mouth as his soft lips still move with yours. He is better than you ever imagined, his big hands gentle yet firm, his kisses overwhelming you. 
You feel the temperature rising between you two. Eventually you have to pull away as you gasp for air. Your forehead rests against his as you both breathe in some fresh air. 
His lips then move to your jaw, travelling all over as he presses soft kisses.  “Do you want to go back?” He whispers as he nuzzles his head against your neck. 
“No, I’d rather stay here all night with you.” You giggle as he then resumes to pepper kisses on your skin. As his kisses become more intimate, moving from your jaw to your neck, your giggles soon turn into little whimpers and moans. 
“Good,” he whispers, his voice sounding much deeper than earlier, before his mouth moves up, his lips trailing towards yours to envelop them in another kiss. 
Reuniting your mouths, Anakin kisses you deeply, his hands busying themselves with tracing your body above your clothes. You can feel one of them slowly going down beneath your arms, softly grasping at your hips and down your legs, on the way back up finding themselves beneath the dress you are wearing.
You move your hips against him instinctively, without a thought, grinding down on him, which makes him pull away with a groan. 
He moves back just enough to press his forehead to yours again. The two of you breathe in each other’s exhales, lips still almost touching as he finally speaks.
“Baby girl, you’ll be the death of me.” He rasps.
You feel your body flush with warmth at his words. Heat pools in your lower body. You bite your lip before giggling, you start peppering his cheeks, jaw and neck with kisses as you grind your hips against him again. 
His hands come to hold your hips, halting your movements. You whine as he holds you back, pouting up at him.
“Oh princess, don’t be like that.” He looks at you pointedly.
“But—”
“I’d love to continue whatever is happening right now, but not here.” He whispers the last part. 
You bite your lip as you try to hide your smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief. Your hands come to tug at the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to you. “Then take me home big boy.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You both stumble into your apartment once you unlock the door after the fourth attempt. It’s hard to unlock anything when someone as hot as Anakin, or an amazing kisser like him, keeps distracting you with kisses. 
You giggle against his lips as you finally kick your heels off. Your feet are eternally grateful once you’re out of them. You sigh with relief as you feel your body relax instantly. 
“Man, I hate sand.” He laughs as he also kicks off his own shoes. 
You chuckle at his words, “Of course you do.”
When Anakin moves his body to meet you again he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. You borrow your head against his chest, nuzzling against his shirt. You’re certain that soon you’ll get addicted to his affection, as if you want him to drown you in it.
“I love you so much,” you whisper against him.
Anakin, pulls away just enough to look down on you. One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, his touch so gentle.
“Will you say it again, sweetheart?” He pleads as he looks at you with adoration. “I just need to hear it again, please.”
You smile warmly up at him, before you stand slightly on the tip of your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Anakin.”
Anakin traces your face with his fingertips. Pushing the loose strands of your hair out of your face, he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. Pulling back just as fast as he kissed you, “I love you too.”
He laughs as you chase his lips instantly. 
“You’re laughing at me?” You gasp, feigning shock. 
“No, sweetheart.” You pout up at him as he continues to chuckle.
“Yes you are.” You pull away from his touch with a dramatic huff.
“Come on baby, you know I wouldn’t.” 
“Oh do I?” You say as you pretend to think about it for a second. 
He laughs again, as his arms come to wrap your body close to his once again. You feel yourself melt in his embrace, feeling safe and at home.
As much as you love being hugged, you crave more. 
“Ani?” you whisper. He pulls away just slightly.
“Yes, sweetheart?” He says as he grasps your hands and kisses your knuckles, heat enveloping you instantly. You feel your body get all warm and mushy at the affection.
“I… want you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. 
He halts his movements at your words, his eyes searching yours. “You want me?” He smiles softly down at you. 
“Please,” you beg as you lean up to trace your lips with his, “I want and need you. I’ve always wanted you.” You press your lips against the corner of his mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck. You look deeply into his eyes, as you continue. “It’s always been you,  Ani. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. My heart has always belonged to you.”
The moment the words leave your lips, his eyes are glazed over, clouded with lust as he no longer holds himself back. His lips envelop yours in a loving but lustful kiss.
His mouth moves, slow and oh so passionate. Anakin kisses you like he has all the time in the world. You love the feel of his lips on yours, you could kiss Anakin all day. So soft and yet so full of passion. He tilts his head a millimetre to fit against you better and you unconsciously perk up on your toes to reach more of him.
You part your lips slightly to catch your breath, inhaling slowly as you taste him and only him. His tongue sweeps across your lips making you whimper. His wet muscle wraps itself against yours a moment later, hot and wet and steady as he tastes your mouth and kisses you deeply.
More warmth pools between your thighs as you continue to kiss each other while your hands wander all over each other. You’re quite certain that your lacy underwear is ruined by now.
Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands try to find purchase on his arms. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet as both of his hands travel from your waist to your ass, squeezing it in his hands and pushing your body closer to him. 
“I’ve loved you for so long.” He whispers against your lips, his hands moving up to hold you. “Sweetheart, you’re my everything.”
You feel drowsy and hot all over, your mind all over the place, your heart beating insanely fast. You’re breathless and Anakin laughs softly as he takes in your state. You need this man so bad.
His mouth trails down your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses all over your skin, leaving you a whimpering mess.
“Ani,” you whine as you subconsciously rub your thighs together.
“I got you, kitten.” He whispers in your ear. You whimper at the pet name while he moves one of his  legs, sliding between your legs. You mewl as he presses his jeans-covered thigh against your covered heat which has you clinging onto him.
“P-please, I—” you stutter.
His hands move to your hips, guiding your body to move against him. The friction against your pussy has you moaning and you start to rub yourself against it.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He groans as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric.
Anakin lifts his head and your eyes catch his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss, not wasting any time as he slips his tongue past your lips. Your body is trembling as he devours your mouth and continues to guide your movements. The man of your dreams is wrapped around you completely, a hand tracing your back, the other holding your hips.
“Pleaaase, need more.” You whine against his mouth, “I need you.”
Suddenly, he lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around him instinctively. The passionate kisses don’t stop as he carries you and looks for your bedroom. Once he reaches your bed he places you gently down the sheets.
The bed dips before he hovers over you. He looks at you intensely as his hands move to your thighs, spreading them so he can fit between them. You whimper against his lips as his fingertips trace the skin of your thighs.
“Anakin, wait.” You say nervously. 
He stops his movements instantly, as he looks at you with concern. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” 
“Nothings wrong Ani,” you nibble at your bottom lip as you look at him. “I just, I’ve never done this before. Being intimate, I mean. I want you, I do, I just wanted to let you know.”
“Sweet girl,” he whispers as he looks at you tenderly, with so much love. “Baby, that’s okay. Don’t you worry about that. I will take good care of you.” 
A small smile forms on your lips at his words, and you nod. Anakin leans down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your body relaxes completely at the action. His lips move, all over your face, placing soft kisses on every piece of skin. 
“Ani,” you giggle before chasing his lips. As your lips connect with his again, your arms wrap around his neck, your hands tangled in his hair. His lips are so soft and swollen. You’ve kissed each other so much tonight that you almost can’t feel your lips anymore. The kiss is like velvet against yours, and as his mouth moves, delicate and slow, you can’t help but sigh into the kiss.
All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.
Lust coursing through your bloodstream, you detach your lips from his, moving to pepper kisses along the sharp outline of his jaw, your lips tracing the edge. Instantly, Anakin’s hands drop to your thighs again, his hands tracing the skin then moves higher underneath your dress, towards your ass before pulling you flush against him. You writhe underneath him, your lower abdomen squirming against the outline of his growing bulge.
Your mouth parts, as you keep grinding against him, as breathy moans leave your lips. 
Anakin sits up, quickly removing his shirt, discarding it somewhere in your room. Then moves back closer. He dips his head down, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his soft lips tenderly roaming over the skin. 
“A-Ani,” you stutteringly whimper, your eyes rolling back when he playfully nips your skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot just below your ear before sucking harshly. Responsively, you mewl. More wetness pools at your core, growing more wet as he takes care of you.
You sigh under him, “I want you,” you mumble quietly.
Anakin runs his nose down the column of your throat before tracing the shape of your collarbone. When he reaches the crook of your neck again, he bites down softly, making you whimper out his name. Lazily, he flicks out his tongue, the wet muscle gliding soothingly over your stinging flesh. He pulls away just a bit as he mutters “I want you too, baby girl.”
“Then do it, take me.” You groan almost impatiently.
Cupping his chin, you pull him in for another kiss, desperately needing to feel his lips against yours once again. He dips his head down almost automatically, as he chases your own, he slides his tongue inside your mouth and you react instantly, gliding yours against his.
Feverishly, your hands begin roaming over each other, hot lust clouding your minds as your kiss grows fervent with desire. You move your hips desperately as you moan against his lips, hoping that he will get the hint. 
“So needy,” he groans against your mouth.
Anakin’s large palms push under the hem of your dress and over your bare thigh under he reaches the junction between your thighs. Unhesitatingly, he presses his hand to your covered folds, and the sudden touch has you breaking your kiss with a strangled cry.
Soft whines spill from your lips, you grind into his hand unconsciously, your walls clenching as you feel him softly stroke your folds over the fabric. The wetness between your thighs is uncomfortable. As he rubs your throbbing clit, you feel your hips stutter at the action. He groans as he feels more wetness at your entrance.
“Such a wet pussy, is this all for me angel?”
You nod frantically, but Anakin doesn’t seem satisfied enough.
“Come on, be a good girl and use your words.” He taunts with a smirk.
“Yes, all yours.” You manage to whimper, your voice sounding strangled and pathetic, as he applies pressure on your clit. “Only yours.”
“That’s my good girl,” he says with a grin. His fingertips find the hem of your dress and you sit up slightly. You raise your arms quickly to help him get rid of your dress.
You feel your body tremble in anticipation, as his eyes roam all over your half naked body, his eyes not being able to stick to one place. Growing wetter under his heavy stare, your inner walls clench around nothing. You feel your heart picking up as his hands reach for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his once again.
“So beautiful.” He whispers as his hands trace your skin.
His lips then crash against yours as you gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing, and take it upon yourself to guide his hand back down to your pussy, this time underneath your panties. His mouth leaves yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your wet lips.
“You’re so fucking wet, kitten.” Anakin groans as he drops his head to your shoulder, as he runs his soft lips over your flesh, peppering kisses onto your skin. 
His lips trail slowly down to your neck, all the way to your chest. Anakin breathes in through his nose, a flash of heat warms you up at his words and you shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “You’re a fucking goddess.”
That’s all he says before he wraps his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks and licks passionately, then he pushes one of his fingers inside your pussy. 
The slight stretch causes your walls to contract, and as he pushes further into you, your cunt practically swallows the length. Feeling you grip his finger, he detaches his lips from your breast.
“Fuck— such a tight pussy,” he hisses. “I’ve dreamt of what your pussy would feel like, but I never thought it’d be this good,”
Your soft noises of ecstasy become louder as the pleasure overwhelms you. His tongue starts licking again, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand keeps pumping his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. His tongue swirls around your nipple, tracing its outline over and over again, while he simultaneously suckles at it.
You whine as your core starts clenching around his finger, begging for more. Instinctively you begin moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he groans against your skin. Anakin’s lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as he continues to fuck you with his finger. You are panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slips another finger inside you. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation.
“Ah fuck, daddy.” You whimper in a daze, not realising what spilled from your lips.
He groans and moves his face back up, to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
“Good kitty, doing so well for daddy.” He pants against your lips.
Your breath hitches at his words, bucking your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. Of course he notices and slips a third finger in, moving them slowly at first as your tight pussy tries to adjust to the addition. 
Little whimpers leave your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers. You feel so full, you can’t help but imagine him fucking you with his cock, knowing that he’s probably massive. His pace eventually speeds up as you move your hips along with his movements. His lips move back to kiss you, as you whine against his mouth. Your hands clutch his shoulders as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spread them.
“Does that feel good, baby girl?” Anakin moans at the moment he connects his thumb with your little pulsing clit. “My love, do you love it when I play with your little pussy?” He rubs your bundle of nerves at the same pace as he fucks your tight walls. You buck your hips, moaning as you nod at his words. “Use your words, kitten.” He tuts.
You writhe against the sheets as you mewl. “Fuck! Yes, please, please, Ani. It feels so good.”
Anakin leans his head back down, trapping your lips in yet another heated kiss. Instinctively, you feel your legs spread even more open for him as you feel yourself get close to your first orgasm of the night. His tongue slips easily into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. You can’t help but moan, whine and whimper as he continues to pleasure you. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at his hair softly making him moan into your mouth.
“F-fuck, I need you so bad.” He groans as his thumb applies more pressure on your little nub. He curls his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake.
His eyes stare into yours, lust and adoration written all over them. Once he fastens his motions inside you again, you moan and squeeze your eyes shut. A burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen makes you arch your back beneath him.
“Come for me, my baby.”
You open your eyes slowly, locking eyes with him. His intense gaze is what it takes for you to come undone. The hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Anakin’s hand as you gasp loudly.
“Doing so well for me princess,” he says proudly, smiling as his fingers slow as you come down from your high. 
As you come back to your senses, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. You feel your pussy clench around nothing every now and there, your wetness dripping down the sheets, which makes you whimper helplessly.
Anakin climbs off the bed, as he makes quick work to remove all of his clothing. You are still in a daze, closing your eyes for a moment.
Once he removes the rest of his clothes, you feel him move back up to you. He leans down, roving his lips down to your neck, licking and sucking, as his hands cup your sensitive breasts, massing them in his hands. You whimper, it’s too much, everything is too much. You feel so hot as Anakin litters soft kisses down your shoulders to your chest. Your hands find his head once again, running your fingers through his hair as he breathes onto one of your nipples.
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He says softly against your skin.
Anakin’s lips move slowly down your body, kissing every little place he can find on your skin while he pushes your body back against the bed. His lips travel all the way down to your hips making you whine and beg silently for more.
A mischievous smile plays on Anakin’s lips as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. “You smell so good, I am sure you taste just as good, if not better.” He groans before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him, truly speechless someone could make this look so hot. Anakin keeps looking at you as he slides down your body, pulling it off you when it reaches your ankles.
Once he pushes your legs wide for him, you whimper as the air hits your wet slit. Anakin smiles as he kisses all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you need. He presses soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands move along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moves up your legs.
His lips linger on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Anakin’s lips are so close to where you need him the most yet he feels so far away.
“P-please Ani, baby, I need you…” you practically beg, so desperate for him to finally give you what you desperately want.
“I love it when you beg for me kitten,” he whispers against the flesh of your thigh before his lips move higher making your breath hitch. His fingers move to spread your outer lips for him, Anakin smirks as he slides two fingers inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation, and you moan against the pillow next to you trying to muffle yourself.
“Mmmm you’re so wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my fingers,” he says before he presses some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”
“God, d-daddy… please move your fingers or anything. I just. I need you so baaa—” your whining gets cut off once you feel his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan from your throat. “F-fuck!”
You feel like screaming, you don’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Anakin’s giving you already. He dives between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his fingers before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage and sucking your button into his mouth.
You feel your body trembling terribly. You need more. You try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continues to shake.
Strong arms are suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.
You grab a random pillow as you hold it against your face to muffle your loud noises while your hips move along with the pace of his fingers. A moment later you feel him grab the pillow and remove it from your face, you whine as he drops it next to your body.
“I want to hear you, my sweet girl, don’t hide your pretty face and moans from me.” He says against your wetness as he curls his fingers inside you, playing with the sensitive spot inside you.
“A-ah, Ani, daddy please. I-I need more.” You moan desperately underneath him. You are squirming, it is so good you can barely even figure out what he is doing with his tongue.
Anakin slowly removes his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss. He chuckles against you, heat spreading all over your body at the action. His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Loud incoherent noises come out from your throat. You’re squirming at the feel of his tongue moving around your entrance and Anakin just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than this right now, eating you out in your bed, and it feels so so good.
Slipping his tongue finally into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, you practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. Your head swims from his ministrations. Moaning and whining, you continue to writhe underneath him. You can feel the tight coil in your stomach, ready to snap.
“P-please, please. Ani, I’m so c-close.” You squeak when he starts thrusting his tongue in and out of you just like his fingers that had been doing it earlier before, your body trembling as you try to grind your hips into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name.
“Come on baby, come for me,” Anakin says against your pussy before plunging his tongue back inside. Your trembling hands reach for his head, tugging lightly at his longer dark blonde strands, while moving your hips against his face, fucking yourself onto his tongue. As he applies pressure on your sensitive spot inside you with his tongue, you can feel his thumb circling your clit, making you see stars.
With a bit more pressure on your clit you come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as you feel your movements against his face getting sloppier. 
The orgasm you’re experiencing feels so intense, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. You feel your pussy gushing against his lips, feeling more wetness slipping out of your entrance as Anakin moans against your cunt. You take in some deep shaky breaths, trying to gasp for air as you come down from your high. Your body trembles heavily as you try to come back to your senses. 
You feel Anakin’s tongue still licking up your pussy as he retreats his fingers from your pulsing hole. His mouth feels heavenly, but you whine at the sensitivity. He moans as he licks against your tight hole, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your entrance again.
“‘S too much.” You whimper at the overstimulation.
Anakin ignores your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continues to eat you out. The man you adore so much between your legs keeps sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He sucks the nub softly between his lips. 
The walls of your pussy clench furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickles out of you, your core practically begging to be filled.
You begin grinding your hips against his face as moans keep spilling off your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He remarks as he presses a kiss to your clit. 
Eventually he leans down, slipping his tongue into your entrance again, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encourages him to do it again and again.
You are a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. As if his name is the only word that you know at the moment. Your hips move against his face as you continue to whimper and moan breathlessly underneath him. 
Writhing below him, you feel him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that has you seeing stars, while your hips buck against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers are once again gripping onto his dark blonde hair rather harshly and your hips push against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.
“Please,” you beg. You’re so, so close. You just need a little bit more to climax.
“Come,” he whispers his demand against you, before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb comes up to press against your little bundle of nerves. You come with a loud whine, your hips stuttering as your vision turns white. You cry out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. Your fingers are tightly woven through Anakin’s hair and your hips push so far against his face, you think you are almost suffocating him.
As you slowly come down to reality again and you try to catch your breath, you hear him praising you softly while he continues to lap at your wetness gently, until you whine and nudge him away with your leg because the overstimulation is getting too much for you. Finally Anakin detaches his mouth from your pussy.
He quickly licks the wetness off his lips before he crawls back up to you with a smirk, to kiss you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. You moan at the taste of yourself against his tongue, your eyes fluttering against his skin while you kiss, your arms wrap around him to pull his body closer against yours. You sigh happily, against his mouth, you feel yourself melting in his embrace already. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours, as the kiss gets more heated.
“You did so good for me, baby. My good girl.” He whispers against you. 
You pull away to look down between your bodies. He’s incredibly long, insanely so, and somehow even thicker, its rigid girth intimidating against your body. His shaft throbs under your gaze and you can’t help but fixate on it, you swallow thickly at the sight of it, the walls of your cunt constricting around nothing.
You can’t help but wonder if it was even possible to fit inside you. 
His lips chase your own, as he envelops you into another sweet but deep kiss. “Care to share what you’re thinking?”
“H-how?” You say quietly as you stare at him.
Anakin chuckles and you can’t help but pout at the sound of his soft laughter. “Baby, I’m not making fun of you. I swear.” He reassures you quickly as his hand cups your cheek gently. “Don’t worry, it will fit.”
You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. You’re whimpering and moaning as you move. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
“Oh, baby,” Anakin groans, and it’s because he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. Every single time his tip rubs against your hole you tremble more. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.
“Please, daddy.” You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You are still extremely wet, but the thought of him finally entering you with his big cock makes you wetter. Anakin swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against yours. He kisses you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
His broad body covers your own smaller body with his. You can’t help but love how bigger and taller he is than you. You feel so small under his large body, but in a good way. You’ve always had a thing for much taller guys. You love how sexy he is; his deep voice, his big hands, his large, muscular, sweaty body. You love hearing him call you his baby, his princess, his love, all the loving names he comes up with for you. You love how he treats you, how he has always treated you. He makes you feel safe and so loved. 
You are trembling against him, filled with anticipation. You writhe against him, wishing he was just filling your pussy up already.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes. “I’ll try to be as gentle and as slow as I can, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” He promises you.
You whine and nod, not trusting your voice at the moment, as you rub your pussy against his dick.
“Fuck,” he moans, “I need you to use your words baby.”
“Okay,” you whisper breathlessly. “I love you.”
“I love you too sweetheart, so much.”
He leans back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands leans down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your entrance. You arch your back slightly and whimper loudly out of frustration.
“P-please—” your whine gets cut off at the feel of him applying pressure at your tight hole.
Anakin slides the tip in such a slow way it is agonising. At first he struggles to enter the tight, unused walls of your virginal pussy. Your lips part with a cry. He is so careful, like he is afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. 
You whine at the stretch of him. He is so huge. Your tight pussy clenches around him as it tries to accommodate his massive girth. He continues to push more of his cock inside you. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping that the distraction and the kisses will soften the sting.
“Fuck, how are you so tight.” Anakin moans against your mouth, almost undone by the tight embrace of your velvet walls around his cock.
His hips still once he hears your strangled gasp. “Wha— it’s not m-me. Ah, fuck. You’re just huge.”
“Do you think you can handle more?” He smiles tenderly as he looks down at you.
“M-more?” You stammer with wide eyes.
“Yeah,” he says breathlessly.
“Please,” You flutter your eyes close and whine as you nod. You grip the bed sheets between your fingers as you beg him for more.
“Good girl,” he grunts softly. You think there isn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you feel your heat get sopping wet. Your pussy continues to pulse and clench around his cock as he moves deeper inside you.
Once he bottoms out, you feel his tip kiss your cervix. Anakin lets his body rest against yours as he allows you to adjust to his size. You feel extremely full, as if he is made for you, and only you. A sudden feeling of completeness overtakes you, the sense of wholeness overwhelming you.
The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders. You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them together as the other one reaches up to your face.
His breathing is heavy as you squeeze his cock constantly. Small whimpers spill from your lips as you squirm underneath him.
You need more.
You slowly open your eyes to look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Ani.”
“You need me to move baby?” He asks gently, as his thumb swipes over your bottom lip.
“Yes, please.” You beg as your pussy clenches around his thickness rather hard which makes him moan. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”
He nods before he starts moving slow and deep, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds onto your hand tightly. The sting was hurting for a while, but it easily morphes into a more pleasurable feeling as he moves against you. 
He moans as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it.
“Such a tight pussy,” he groans.
A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escapes your throat, a strange cry of his name.
Anakin’s entire weight is braced on one hand beside you, his other hand moving to rest on your back, under your body, as he pulls your chest into his. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. The angle is so good, gradually he picks up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.
“You’re taking me so well, kitten. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispers against your skin as he nuzzles his face against your neck.
You whimper as his lips move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. At a certain point you feel him slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the pleasure he is giving you. Your legs shoot out, wrapping them around his hips, and your heels dig into the fleshy globes of Anakin’s ass, pulling him deeper into you.
“Feeling good my sweet girl?” He moans, a small smile forming on his lips as he watches your face contort in pure pleasure.
His mouth covers your own instead as he swallows all your little noises, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. Suddenly everything feels too much. It is just too much for you to handle.
He quickens his pace, his hips snapping up to yours to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this me, isn’t it, kitten?”
You can only moan his name repeatedly in response. His hands can’t seem to get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. Your arms wrap around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil is tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he admires you, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck— I bet you’d look so pretty full of my cum too.”
“Please…” you whimper at the thought of him filling you up with his cum. As your thoughts start to wander, things that you shouldn’t be thinking of yet, all because the thought of him filling you up with his cum has your thoughts going feral. It has you involuntarily clenching around him. (You try to store that fantasy for later.) “Please daddy, fill this pussy up.”
He groans as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
Fervently, the two of you rock into each other, chasing your own highs. You cling desperately to him, your arms holding onto his shoulders as you writhe together. You crave his kisses, needing to feel his lips on yours, you strain your neck and press your mouth to his. Instantly, his mouth opens, and your tongues begin moving against each other leisurely.
One of his hands slides between your body before you feel him stroke your clit. He rubs your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’d cum. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips, your breaths heavily intermingling together.
“You want to cum, sweetheart?” 
You nod frantically at his words with your eyes closed as you bite your lip harshly. “Please, f-fuck. Need it so bad.”
“Cum for me, baby,” Anakin urges. His command, paired with the way his fingers caress your clit, and how his cock drags against your sweet spot, has you at the brink of your climax.
Mouth falling open, your muscles strain as you choke out a cry of euphoria. Your whole body trembles, squirming underneath him as you come undone. You held his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. Head lolling back, your back arches violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under him. 
Anakin groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
Feeling your pussy tighten in a vice-like grip, your inner walls gushing with wetness as you milk his shaft, Anakin moans deeply.
“Fuck,“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Going to fill this pussy up, until it’s full and messy.”
His own head falls onto your chest, and with a few more thrusts, he buries his cock as deep inside you as he can before he cums.
He moans loudly, as he comes inside you. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within your walls. His warm cum fills you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. You whimper at the feel of his cum dripping out of you.
Once both of you catch your breaths, Anakin leans his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
You feel him soften inside you, and as soon as you feel him move to pull out, you whine in protest wrapping your legs around him to prevent him from leaving you yet.
“Stay.” You whisper against his lips.
Anakin lets out a breathless chuckle at that.
“We need to clean you up.”
“Right now?” You whine again.
“Yeah,” he smiles as you pout. “How about this, I will clean you up and then we can cuddle as much as you want.”
“Will you stay?” You continue to pout.
“Yes, if my girl wants me to stay I will.” He smiles down at you, looking at you with so much love.
“Oh really?” You grin at him. “Am I your girl?”
He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yes, of course. Who else?”
“I just wanted to hear you say it.” You giggle before you press a soft kiss at the corner of his lips.
“Yes, you’re mine. Just like I’m yours. Completely.” Then his head moves just slightly, to capture your lips in another deep and loving kiss. As you lose yourself in the kiss, you don’t really notice as he softly unhooks your legs from around him. Moments later he pulls out as gently as possible.
You whine in protest, your walls a little raw from his thick girth, and when he retreats completely, you can’t help but squirm. Instantly, his cum begins leaking out of you, causing you to mewl in pleasure, your entrance throbbing and only forcing more of his cum out. 
Anakin sits back on his heels, his eyes drop to your pussy, a low groan falls from his lips. Your legs are spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he’s more focused on how his cum leaks out of you, his seed dripping down your ass. Or how your pussy clenches around nothing every now and then. His chest swells with pride, and he can’t help but smile lazily.
Leaning forward, he presses one hand onto your inner thigh, while the other swipes two fingers between your slit, gathering up his cum, and pushing it back into you. You wince at the sensation, a low groan slipping from your throat at the sensitivity. He presses a kiss to your knee in apology after he pulls his hand away.
“Come on baby,” he chuckles as he moves off the bed, taking you along with him. You whine as you realise that you’ll have to come along with him, leaving your soft bed.
“What? I thought you were gonna clean me up?” You pout. Your legs wobble a bit, your body aching as he tugs you to the adjacent bathroom of your bedroom.
“I changed my mind.” He smiles cheekily.
You raise your brow at him, looking at him suspiciously as he guides them into her shower. 
“If you think that we’re gonna do anything but clean ourselves then you’re mistaken mister.” You poke his chest playfully.
“I know,” he winks before he turns the shower on. Immediately, water shoots from the shower head mounted to the wall, the spray wetting your arm. 
Once you’re both cleaned, which took a while because you did more than just clean; lots of kisses and touches were shared, both of you finally crawled back into bed. The night is filled with lots of talking, laughter, your kisses, cuddling, more noises of pleasure and all the love you both share for one another. You know that you’ll never get tired of loving Anakin, regardless of how new your romantic relationship is. And you know he feels the same way about you too. You’re tired of running away, tired of pushing your true feelings away. Finally allowing yourself to be truly happy with the love you have for the man that adores you just as much.
He’s your medicine.
301 notes · View notes
HAPPY 1K!!!! That's SO exciting and well deserved!!
Might I humbly request a ficlet with...
Z. "You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"
and ⭐Celebrity AU
Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! 🍓
Tumblr media
I'm celebrating 1k followers, requests are open
Just how much I'll do
Rated: M
Words: 989
Tags: Celebrity AU, modern AU, rockstar Eddie, nepo baby Steve, fake dating, sexual tension, finger sucking, enemies to lovers
🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓
“Ah, there they are,” Eddie says. “Took them long enough.” 
Steve stops chatting with the waitress to follow his gaze. Something is glinting beyond their window, in the tiny space between two cars on the other side of the dark street. A camera. The waitress hurriedly puts down their dessert and scurries off. Steve watches her go with a disappointed frown. Using the moment of distraction, Eddie reaches out across the table and tangles their fingers together. 
The frown melts into a bitchy scowl and Steve flinches like Eddie’s hand is something gross. 
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Eddie laughs, loud and unashamed in the hushed quiet of the restaurant.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos. He flips their entwined hands so they’re facing the window, running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion. His smile is wide and teasing as he leans over the table and into Steve’s space. “I must admit I’m a tad bit insulted. I make an effort to look nice for you, take you to the fanciest restaurant in town, and you’ve got nothing better to do than flirt with the waitress all night? Why, Stevie, do you even still love me?” 
“Quit it, Munson,” Steve snaps, trying to yank his hand away, but Eddie holds firm. A few quizzical heads turn in their direction and he’s quick to stop struggling. When he speaks again, his voice is a low hiss. “You know as well as me that this is all a publicity stunt. Don’t forget about the deal.” 
“Sure,” Eddie drawls, snatching a chocolate-coated strawberry from his plate and popping it into his mouth. The chocolate bursts between his teeth and tangy, juicy sweetness explodes all over his taste buds, making him hum in pleasure. The place may be way out of his comfort zone, markedly different from his usual dark and edgy night clubs, but at least the food is excellent. “We go on a few dates together, let our friends out there take their little photos, write their little news stories. After a few months, we break it off amicably - no hard feelings, you’ll always be special to me, yadda yadda. My label gets off my ass about my ‘out of control’ lifestyle, your old man gets to beat those completely unfounded allegations of homophobia just in time for the big election. Look how supportive he is of his queer son, after all. A true champ, a beacon of tolerance and open-mindedness, a shining example for all of us.” 
Steve, who has just taken a sip of his wine, snorts so hard, Eddie’s surprised it doesn’t come shooting out of his nose. He has a nice laugh - pretty like the rest of him, but there’s a bitter little twist to his mouth that never seems to quite disappear. Eddie catches himself wondering what his smile would look like without it. 
“Please,” Steve sneers, putting his glass back down with a bit too much force. A few drops of wine splash over the rim, staining the table cloth red. “My dad’s a bigoted old asshole and we both know it.” 
The hand that’s still tangled with Eddie’s tightens, almost painfully. A small part of Eddie imagines the things Senator Harrington must call his darling son behind closed doors. 
“Makes me wonder, though,” is what he says, “why you agreed to play along in this little farce? Why help him out if he’s such a douchebag?” 
For a second, something pokes through the facade of bored indifference on Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable and honest. Eddie wants to grab a hold of it and pull it all the way to the surface, lay it bare and never let it go again. But it’s gone as quick as it came, slipping through his fingers like mist. 
“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and the bitter curl returns to his lips. “Not like you’d get it.” 
He's right, Eddie thinks. He probably wouldn't. He hasn't seen his own sperm donor in twenty years. He doesn’t know what it's like, growing up in the shadow of an overbearing father, constantly forced to uphold your family's image, to live up to expectations. 
But something in the way Steve says it, all haughty and derisive, like Eddie isn't even worth an explanation, makes something ugly stir low in his belly. 
“Oh, I think I get it,” he says, plucking another strawberry from his plate. Steve watches with a furrowed brow how he lets it dangle between them, waving it idly about as he speaks. “I think it must be hard, constantly begging for daddy's love and acceptance, but only ever being fed the scraps. Always so eager, always so willing, but never quite good enough, you poor boy. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?” 
Steve's eyes go wide, perfect lips parting around a punched-out little sound. Eddie grins triumphantly, lifting the strawberry to his mouth. 
But he never makes it there. 
Steve surges forward, fingers closing around Eddie’s wrist. Eddie watches, heartbeat pounding in his skull, how Steve sucks the fruit into his warm, wet mouth. How pink lips slip over his fingers, all the way down to the first knuckle. Chocolate cracks and a thin rivulet of red juice trickles down Eddie's thumb. Steve darts out his tongue and catches it, never once breaking eye contact. 
“Holy shit,” someone whispers. It takes Eddie a moment to recognize his own voice. He knows it's impossible through the glass and the distance, but he swears he can hear how the camera shutter on the other side of the street goes crazy. 
Steve releases his fingers with a slick sound, tongue licking over plush lips to gather the last traces of strawberry and chocolate and Eddie still clinging to them. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, breath cool against Eddie’s wet skin. 
“Let's get outta here … and I'll show you just how much I'll do.” 
🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓
And then they went home and had hate sex. The end.
89 notes · View notes